Our new home is a perfect tree house: sun-drenched deck in the afternoons, moon-kissed window sills at night.
A cacophony of crickets and nighttime birds, in waves... The blue foliage of evergreens and a permeating smell of humid earth.
I'm hoping that —if we stay here long enough— some sort of sap will start coursing through me, as well. :)
From every direction, tree tops offer wild curtains to our windows—they'll turn into a majestic theater with the passing of seasons. Our feeble plants are already loving this filtered, green light.
Last night, we saw the Small Dipper from our own creaky deck, and imagined the shadows below to host wolves and spirits.
It has been a long time since I lived under skies that weren't inflamed by city lights.