I was wearing a little cape of dread the other day and finally that evening I took the dog out for his walk. The cape on me is the kind that lands on you after five days of no sun, it’s end of the month, end of the cycle, the little cape of adjustment, irritation, and itch.

I was walking the dog, yanking him along, forgetting it’s his walk. It was five degrees and he was just standing there in the snow looking up into the trees. He looked perfectly calm and happy. So annoying! Then I thought of the line: There are no problems. And I looked up. And what I saw caused the horrible itchy Bad Mood Cape to fall off, to dissolve clean away.

The dog and I were standing under a tree my friend Amelia and I have named Queen of the Park, a great, great tulip tree, the most majestic of the poplars. Every branch was lit up with a green-gold lace cup—the tree was on fire, it was a bouquet of bloom. I couldn’t believe it. Five degrees. Snow up to my knees. No sun for days and days.

And if I just shut up and get out of my bad ideas of reality and truly look around, and see what is, beauty. Growth. Everything is fine! More than fine. It’s miraculous. The tree was like ten thousand tiny open palms, and now I am looking everywhere. Every bush and tree are doing this bursting—it’s all already happening. There’s no waiting for spring. The trees aren’t waiting for more light.

There is always enough and much much more is on the way