my neighbor down the road is burning brush and the woodsmoke scents the air. a light breeze floats my hair around my neck and face. i hear spring peepers in the pond below and birdsong fills the trees. i've put my sweater on and off several times in the last hour, because it's april in vermont. there are so many shades of green out here that i do not have the words to describe them all.
an hour with the knitting needles and now i've remembered all the reasons we are here.