Pine trees as a device for telling time

I see pine trees when I open my eyes in the morning. I see pine trees whenever I open my eyes. In the morning they filter the sunlight, sometimes sway in the wind hard enough to make me worry about falling trees. During the day and especially at sunset the sun paints the bark fiery orange and red. At night some of them are lit up from below with spotlights. The wobbly branches try to dissappear into the dark night sky but just end up looking like some algae floating in the sea. I tell time best by looking at the pine trees.

Behind the small patch of pine trees there is an old cemetary. Not a single night has passed since our move without at least one candle burning on some grave. I already think of summer when the nights are too light for us to see any candles burning. I’m sure there will be other things to look forward to then.

Such a beautiful day today. It would be ridiculous to focus on the fact my head has been aching for twelve straight hours and the sunshine only made it worse. (Napped, woke up on the sofa, saw pine trees bright orange.) So, a gorgeously sunny day, I wore spring shoes and managed to keep my toes dry. My tulips are still happy, so is the tiny myrtle we are hoping to keep alive. V will focus on nurturing the myrtle, I will do my best to nurture my creative side now that we have almost settled down in our new home.