I had set myself a story challenge, for one must have trials in order to grow. We need it like the spring flowers need to feel the earth unfreeze. He or she: you will need it (whomsoever and wheresoever in space and time you may be. You may even be plural, it still applies. Maybe that's enough pronouns and tenses for now though…) And like a growth spurt, out and up the stories pop! A rude clown, a tempted magpie, a lucky explorer, an unfortunate robot and advice for children in a zombie apocalypse; a bad stomach, a dragon-eye gem, tropical monsters, regrettable sausages, some new shoes, camouflage and suitable retaliation.
Happy sigh!

Yesterday Dog and I strolled a field, new to us: steep and possessed of a wide view. Over the corner curve we found deer bones, sun bleached, porous as coral: a line of trees with tentacle roots, storm twisted branches. Familiar with the elements, ne'ertheless, it is a new world. Through a hedge gap squeezes four legs, two legs: run the wooded path, all a goggle: no need of words, only see, only goggle.


Geo. said…
When I gardened public places, I would walk to my fieldhouse before dawn among Shaolin Monks who greeted the day with a sort of Tai Chi ballet. Your first photo of trees in mid-stretch reminds me of those lovely mornings. Even in retirement, I sometimes wake up at the old time and go outside, embrace the sky, consider the universe with my body shifting and hands extended, like I saw them do. Unlike the monks, I go back to bed. Beautiful.
Lisa Southard said…
These old trees could do with a lie in sometimes. Was a lovely scene to stumble on :-)

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