A Feast of Rain . . .

. . . and weeping willows. A new tree has come to my yard, a weeping willow. It is young, but already quite expressive, and a real hit among the smallest birds. They ride it in the breeze. They have yellow bodies with black wing tips, and face. And, they could sit comfortably in a tablespoon. What miracles fill this creation. The rainy darkness makes all color stand out vividly, and these little darling birds are flitting about this new weeping willow, making me realize what a miracle creation is, as if I'd never noticed it before. I acknowledge the gift.