Trees

The season is changing again. It's completely silent except for the rain outside; not a car or person has gone by for at least an hour. I'm re-rigging my reserve parachute for flying in Alaska this winter.







Photos; 'just' some trees on the Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge, on a recent beautifully wet and windy day. After five years the plankhouse is taking on character, now, warping with water and gravity and colonized by all manner of small life.

And a poem by Lynn Martin for the season;

Under the Walnut Tree

When I face what has left my life,
I bow. I walk outside into the cold,
rain nesting in my hair.
All the houses near me
have their lights on. Somewhere,
there is a deep listening.
I stand in the dark for a long time
under the walnut tree, unable
to tell anyone, not even the night,
what I know. I feel the darkness
rush towards me, and I open my arms.

–– Lynn Martin