Is it possible to still read the old signs our ancestors read before they read words? Let’s look… Two mushrooms, one white, one dark, both dusted as if with snow, like the moon and the sun above a piece of water-worn bedrock from the deep mantle, on a bed of spruce needles, sprinkled with elm leaves, a few twigs, and one rich cone, just inside the shadow from a splash of light. That is, ahem, spruce, the tree of true intentions, and elm, the tree that listens without judgement. Sun, moon and earth on the edge of light, presaging snow both day and night, but very light this winter, very light. Hey, it might be so. Let’s wait and find out!