Heartlight, Millbrook Marsh

I am a lover of trees. Oh, wait, I think I may have already told you that. There are many fine places in my area where a person who wishes to do so may spend some quality time with trees. Happily, Millbrook Marsh is one of them.

Tuesday began with another one of those fine, chilly winter mornings. The local temperature was around 9 degrees F, or about minus 13 C. A snowstorm Sunday into Monday gave us about four to six inches of new snow, then topped it off with ice and rain. On Monday night, the temperatures dropped and dropped, and everything froze solid. 

I was curious Tuesday morning to see how the marsh looked in the new snow, and at these temperatures. And so I bundled up, and went and investigated. You know, purely for scientific purposes . . .

I discovered the boardwalk entirely covered in snow. In the morning light, the tree shadows were blue against the white ground. Frost crystals adorned the bushes along the water.

Mist rose off the creek in swirls, like a living thing. The only creatures I saw moving at these temperatures were about a half-dozen mallards making their leisurely way down the creek through the rising mist.

But the story of the morning, for me, at least, was the way the winter light came through the trees. I broke snow to make my way to the edge of the creek so I could get a better view of the mist and the tree line.

And especially this tree, in the center of the shot, which I have come to know and enjoy. It has a good shape: solid, thick trunk; arm-branches reaching heavenward. Trees have living spirits within them. If you don't know this, you don't know anything about trees.

I stepped forward to get a better angle on the swirling mists when I caught a glint in my eye. Looking up, I witnessed a moment of morning magic, as the rising sun shone through the very center of the tree, becoming its heartlight.

The song to accompany this image is a favorite: Neil Diamond, with Heartlight, from the 1982 blockbuster movie, E.T., the Extra-Terrestrial.