That young redbud tree delicately budding in my front yard in early spring, that
golden haze in which the rolling hills close to my home are bathed on a summer morning, that lovely pond on my walk home from work out of whose rushes a red - winged blackbird almost invariably flies up as I pass by in early autumn, that winter belt of trees across the street transformed by an ice storm
into a
glittering fairyland — all those beauties of which nature is so achingly and serendipitously full are likewise my modest sources of healing and renewal.