Yurt times are good times
The dew droplets are frozen orbs, enlightened diamonds dangling in the heavy cold.
And cotton clouds glow peachy rose on a sky that is anything but blue this morning. A gradient of hues sweep from pale yellow and green to lilac, then--at the apex of this dome--a granite periwinkle. The sun is generous but furtive as it reaches and recedes behind a curtain of bedrock giants that give shape to the place I call home.
These elaborate designs are surely gone by now, but I saw them and held them and bring them back to you.