Walk with me Wednesday
The dull smell of smoke from a brush-clearing fire hangs in the air as it has for four days now. I begin to understand what it must be like living downwind from a forest fire. I am ready to shower the smell away even knowing that I will have to do so again and again until all the brush has been cleared.
The trees are still and sparkling as though they have put on New Year's finery and are just waiting for the carriages to arrive.
They have festooned themselves with priceless jewels that glint in the corner of your eye
and disappear when you turn to get a better look.
Tiny little glimpes of nature's most perfect diamond. Uncut, untouched and unrefined, but with a shine and perfection man could never hope to achieve.