The room without walls is graying rapidly. All of the trees are left with bare fingers pointing to the gray sky. Much is now dying or going into the long sleep. In the corner of my house facing the southwest winter sun, my tiny new calamondin tree has redeemed the gray passage for us with tiny tangy orange citrus for our drinks and is now filling the tips of its tiny branches with lovely white blossoms. Soon the alluring fragrance of citrus will fill that corner of the room reminding me that spring is hiding around another corner.