I stare up
Green trees haloed by a cornflower sky
The bristles of their green brush
Sway back and forth, propelled by the wind
The tree tips are haloed by a brightness
It casts a relief about them, outlining and softening their coarse edges
That Aura I see is a trick of the eye and the light.
And probably has some fancy name.
Like Ocular pigmentation.
But to me, here in the wilderness.
It’s magic.