Wild solace grows in these hedgerows. I follow the
stream as a whimsical path. The drainage is manmade, a plastic tunnel channeled
from the field. Dug over in the shale are old bones, old teeth, turned from the
earth when the tunnel was dropped in. In the stream too, a bright skeletal
relic: shiny clean in shallow water.
I can't imagine these trees as saplings but they must
have grown, out of the earth where the bones all lie.
Water churning bones up between moss-bound banks. What a fascinating walk! And yes, I suppose we must remember what earth does not permit us to forget. Our planet, it thinks with things.
ReplyDeleteThinks with things... I like that phrase especially :-)
ReplyDelete