Women who stare at trees

I plan to lie in the sun in the woods until I feel like getting up.   Sleep, stare, read, lie like a starfish looking up at the branches.  This is the view that’s fixed me before.  Though maybe it’s not the view that heals, but the act of lying with your head at the roots of a tree.  I’ve spent some time doing that, every minute well spent.

Today I was holding a book over my face against a blazing sun when I noticed teensy pearls of light spiralling lazily down on me, less than half a dozen landing and evaporating instantly on my skin with a soft pinch.  They were bright like diamonds, only weightless, drifting slowly down like snowflakes out of a clear bright sky with barely a hint of white cotton candy in it.  It was the most amazing thing, and made no sense.  I’m not even sure it wasn’t snow, although the sun was so hot.  Ice crystals?  How could they possibly survive to the surface?  It lasted less than a minute, and was over.  And I thought, what else can you miss when you’re not lying in the woods?

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