This morning I saw an auspicious sign for the new year.  As I write, I gaze out the window, engaged with the liveliness of my wild garden. Up the street, beyond the tall hedges, oaks, and cypress, a tall redwood towers.

Just after dawn, a large white bird flew through the tree tops to the grand redwood. My fingers left the keyboard as her claws gripped the tippy top and she opened her wings into the wind.