Early Spring

Early spring. A cold, sunny day. The forest is still bare. Grey trunks glow with silver and gold in the sunlight. Between them, blue sky and brilliant white clouds and dark looming mountains opposite, across the valley, across the river. I recall another such day, cold and bright, and me walking in the woods, in the mountains. And even though that was almost 40 years ago, on another continent, I remember vividly how it felt to be there then, walking in that still bare forest, in early spring, on a cold, sunny day.