Suddenly, while I was still coughing and wheezing from the flu, spring arrived on the hills around us. It seemed as if every type of wattle and fruit tree began to flower simultaneously, even while the mornings remained so cold and frosty I couldn’t step outside without going into a coughing fit.
Best of all, though, the golden lights of the wattles on the hills show up all the places where I’ve been planting trees (Georgia’s Patch, the Cutting and more and more places each year.
And in the distance, in the steep and really rocky places, the places where wattles have held on despite all the challenges against them. Golden days.