the outdoors. great and otherwise.

given the right conditions,
and half a chance,
little brown acorns turn into mighty brown oaks.
that's pretty rad.
it doesn't look like much right now,
just singled out of a mulchy mountain of leafy loam,
but,
humble beginnings can become auspicious outcomes.
i like that kind of thing.
thanks to our little squirrely buddies,
i'm betting a whole new copse of copious quercus varieties
is ready to sprout up and shout out.
that's word. 
 
i took a wicked nice
(albeit wet and mosquito-laden)
woodsly wizard walk yesterday.

it's the perfect season for good-lookin' leafy greens.
too early for new mushrooms,
but otherwise,
growth is what's a-poppin'.
from tip to toes,
the forest sure took a beating these last few seasons,
between the snowloads and the westerly winter winds.
plenty of treetrunks, branches, and roots
are newly relocated to positions somewhere else,
sideways and roundabout to where they were last fall.
change is the only constant, right?
riiiight.

i discovered an isolated little orchard of unplanned apple babies,
out in the middle of not-really-anywhere.
alongside a babbling brook,
there's a whole little grove of crabapples reaching for the sky.
i'm probably gonna dig one up,
and take her with me when we move.
although probably not that one up there.

whenever nature decides to grow bright red blops,
i'm inclined to let that course of action ride itself right out.
who knows?
maybe it'll start a whole new race of superior sentient apple ents?
i'm hopin' that they'll look kindly on me...
...the very next time i stumble across a spooky appleseed nursery
out in the center of a secondary growth forest.


c'mon.
shelves of withered paper-thin woodears?
doooooope.
thank goodness for the woodsly goodness.
i am grateful for this time,
all the time.
i am determined to make the most of the minutes and moments
that remain here with me.
i will miss this place,
but i will not forget it;
never quiet, never soft....