Shotpouch Day 1—April 25

         It is a luxury to inhabit this large clean open space without interruption.  Green all around me, I begin to take pictures as I walk–insurance against the fickle nature of weather.  As I look into the viewfinder, I see more closely the interrelationships of plant to plant, plant to flower, plant to tree, tree to tree to tree… . Their limbs are lines to me today; I look for striking compositions—parallels, diagonals, intersections, repetitions.

    In the orchard, the fruit trees’ scabby bark bends, one limb around another. Flexible problem-solvers, they find their way to nourishment and fruition.

     The maple are clearly about the rise. They drop their arms under the weight of moss, while their crowns soar into the blue.

  The ferns crowd the understory in disarray, old and dead gathered with hearty green standards and nubile fiddlehead in a raucous profusion.

     Cottonweed goes a-sailing across the green and sea-blue sky.

     Hum of insects is drowned out by the sounds of running water as I approach the bridge over the creek.  Tree branches airily screen the view with delicate branches and a smattering of leaves. Light glimmers between leaf shadows; water rushes.