Morning Light

These late March mornings wake me up with a blinding slice of light through our living room window.



In the kitchen, that light blazes through an old amber bottle my husband found on a hiking trail in the Smokies.



Time to walk outside and head straight for the sun...



taking a left to greet my "white ladies," the trees I can see down by the river whenever I look out my living room window. They look especially fresh this morning, as if they'd just stepped out of the bathtub and dusted themselves with bath powder, maybe a scent called "White Shoulders."



The morning fog beins to lift its curtain on another day.