I love how the quality of light shifts with the change of seasons. No longer does the stark winter sun hover endlessly on the horizon, a giant glare at the end of the road. Spring light is subtle; shadows stay long later into the evening, earlier into the morning.
The birds feel it too. Their endless morning chatter wakes me around 5:30 these days, soon it will be 4:00. 5:30 is not a bad time to contemplate an early morning walk along the ridge, watching the sun strike the snow-capped peaks in the distance. It never gets past the contemplation stage, though. Several hours of coffee need to be savoured first.
Later in the day, I will throw open all the doors and windows. I love having nothing but a wooden screen door between me and the world.