After the fire. 

Mother nature knows what she's doing.  Three years ago there was a huge fire in Waterton National Park.  The dead trees still stand, future nourishment for the forest.  Wild flowers have sprung up with the canopy gone.  Most of the green you see in the photo is fireweed, waiting to bloom in August.  The yellow flowers are arnica, a poisonous plant, related to sunflowers.  Mother nature doesn't fuck around.  Already there are pines that are a foot tall, released from their pinecones by the heat of the fire.

Depression lingers here.  My brain and I are engaged in an old struggle, rational thought versus long held beliefs, or ruts as I like to think of them.  Brains can be rewired, ruts can be avoided, but it's difficult work, especially when I'm tired from depression and news and pandemics. 

It will pass.  The sun will shine again, blah, blah, blah.  At the moment though, I feel more like the dead trees still standing than the bright yellow arnica around their feet.