Spring arrives like a whispered hymn through the waking woods,a golden breath stirring the hush of slumbering earth.Cherry trees blush with fragrant petals,as if nature herself recalls an old, sweet memory.
Cathedrals stretch toward the sun...
High upon the hills, where clouds drift like restless memories, stone walls keep their silent watch.
They have seen centuries pass in the slow breath of the wind.Once, voices echoed here with purpose, commands, and devotion, now only the wind...
Wonderful!
Although we are 52 miles NW of Mt Baker, we have a clear view of it since I built our home with all east facing windows faciing Mt Baker; never get tired of the view. I'll have to take my drones there next time I visit.