In silhouette, a tree is a web. Call this the accumulation of time, all at once. In full sun, it is a mysterious process of branching. Call this the process of entering […]
Its leaves don’t have to be its “own.” Or even “leaves.” Someone is always happy to have a trunk. You could say that “trees build trunks for others.” You could.
They call it a mud puddle, but, shucks, the frogs were croaking up that way a few weeks back. Wear a long shirt after dusk. The little floating logs are mosquitoes. No wings […]