I reached out, touched the trunks of trees as we traveled together in the afternoon sun. I recall the feeling of textures and the girth of a tree in my arms as I tried to encircle it. I needed to touch the overlapping surface of the Locust tree, put it in my memory bank where I can retrieve it when wintry days become anxious and lonely.Continue reading →
August. I take my camera outside so I can capture the
beauty of these disorderly flowers. I imagine these fields of
uncultivated flowers long after they disappear in mid–
I begin the upward climb into the cloudy mist
The earth disappears below me.
No end in sight. The ladder sways in wide arcs,