Walking in my favorite garden alleviates winter’s grief.

Morning sun toasts bracing air. Subtle winds swipe bronze mobiles. Sand patterns swirl around clusters of browning azaleas. Tinsel-thin-ice-patches atop the pond  morph into shimmering waters. Rushing streams tumble upon stacks of rock. Skeletal trees reverence decades of endurance. Candelabra-arms of beech trees hover over spent grasses. Stands of vibrant green bamboo glisten in the sun. A two-sided bamboo shelter interfaces outer and inner worlds. A flock of sheep, motionless these many winters, still head northwest.

Yes, I am meandering around the Missouri Botanical Garden, a place of stillness and joy, but any garden will do.