It is spring, and the cottonwood leaves are awakening from the quiet repose of winter. The warmth of the sun kindles their dreams, bursting their flaming sheaths. The combustion releases a syrupy aroma that flows and eddies in air currents along the river. Its swirling fragrance is a calming dizziness. The leaves erupt into an untamed bouquet and ripple outwards like the water they so love. Their bodies will uncurl into ovate blades to scoop up the sun. They will dance and collide in the wind, circulating a song of water in the blue sky of summer. I am looking forward to luminous July days and sitting in the shade of the cottonwood tree. I will uncurl my toes in the water and watch the waxwings swing between the trees over the river.