I wonder what people did in New England before television and Facebook? I guess they read books to pass the slow winter hours… or wrote letters… or practiced the piano…
I love the smell of wood in autumn, and the sound of dry leaves. This is a very nice log. I wonder which tree it came from? I suppose it was like any other tree, growing slowly, drinking minerals, seeking sun. I suppose birds built nests in its branches, and squirrels chased up and down. I suppose it was at the center of a universe of sights and sounds, never thinking it would fall, and be hollowed out. I guess the shell always outlasts the heart, and the forest is strewn with empty armor. And every living thing is immortal… until it dies.
“Sounds” – I talked to Pablo about deer ticks and he told me their full name is “ixodes scapularis” and that they drink an animal’s blood four to five days before letting go. He said they can spread lyme disease, but that humans are more susceptible than donkeys. Maybe that’s why there aren’t as many humans in the woods. Maybe now that I know more about deer ticks, they will be less interested in biting me.
“Sights” – Clouds. Lots of clouds. Then one big cloud. A cloud that covered the whole lake and maybe even the world. Everything was whitish grey. It erased the shadows of the leaves and trees. I suppose it sucked them into itself which is why the cloud was dark in spots. It also sucked up sounds. The train wasn’t as noisy, and the birds sang a lower pitch.