Still in its winter landscape, the barrenness and grey hold an odd beauty and strength. As we rounded a rather sharp corner heading back on the beach side of the park, all of a sudden groves of birch trees appeared all along the road. I guess I've always known they were on this part of the peninsula but here in winter, with no greenery to hide them, they stood out dramatically. There were so many and they were so tall and commanding of our sight that we exclaimed that they looked like white giraffes...and they did. Beautiful....as the pine and cypress are when their "competition" is out of sight, too.
I wanted to speak at length about
the happiness of my body and the
delight of my mind for it was
April, night, a
full moon and...
but something in myself or maybe
from somewhere other said: not too
many words, please, in the
muddy shallows the
frogs are singing.