Last month the UU World electronic newsletter sent this link to an essay by Philip Simmons author of Learning to Fall. I read it last night and it is so worth the time. It helps me look out my window this morning with different eyes.
It begins with a poem by Wallace Stevens:
Emptiness, like silence, like love, is indeed a gift.
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind
From "The Snow Man" by Wallace Stevens, in The Collected Poems of Wallace Stevens, copyright 1954 by Wallace Stevens