The garden has some interesting white spots this morning. Sancho is blowing out his coat, or, more precisely, scratching out his coat, so there are wisps of cashmere hanging at random intervals around the front pasture fence. The white camilia on the south side of the house survived the crushing snow from two years ago, but got very confused with this winter. It is only now starting to bloom (a month late). In contrast, the big feral cherry tree is right on time, and its little brother by the mud room is juuuuuust starting to blossom.
The dense fog creeping through the trees highlighted something I don't often see: all of the little ground webs all over the forest. As I drove down the hill today, the normal brown mast of the underbrush was full of shining, fragile fairy bowls.