Been a while since the sun made any heat round these parts. The sky stood still as a picture, unpolluted for once, and its blues began to bleed back in, behind and above the patchy peaks, as they accepted first light. Been a while since I saw that, too; first light.

The witching hour usually passes me by like lunchtime for the rest of us. It was February in the hills - well, it was February everywhere, but here, even more so. Snow still sat two feet thick on the paths and fields, and on the rooftops and gardens, alike. It was the first day above zero and it made a difference. Thermal socks were still a thing, but I'd guessed not for much longer. Almost time to start up again, after the deep freeze.

As the ice began to melt from the windows and rafters, revealing the lost colors of painted wood and ceramic, the forest began to relax, having held its breath for such long, dark months. Frames of bare trees held onto fragile nests, exposed to the elements and the dangers of cats, but delicate birds came to visit, leaving creases on lips and eyes shining.

Springtime. Almost.

First light on the thawed mountain forest, later to melt the ground.

A little blue appears in the sky.