Misty Morning

This morning was subtly lovely, in that understated Midwestern way of hedgerows disappearing into mist... bare skeletons of trees reaching their bony fingers toward the sky, holding up the red-wing blackbirds... fat water droplets clinging to berries and branches, reflecting tiny, distorted worlds in their bubbles... surprise bursts of color in a red twig or a curl of yellow grass or a colony of lichens whose muted hues seem amplified by the wetness... the loud silence of chattering birds and human absence... ice that's melting and mud that's squishing under my feet...