The root of the old maple in the woods makes a small seat, high enough off the ground for me to sit comfortably on. It always seemed to me two separate trees that grew together creating a split right down the middle.
Today as I sat on the root of the tree I was looking at one half of it which broke off in Friday’s storm. Earlier I had stepped into the branches that used to be surrounded by sky and were now laying on the ground. I wondered if the tiny leaves would continue to grow, at least for a little while.
Change is constant and plentiful in the woods, but I only see a handful of it. The ones that catch my attention, like a tree falling, flowers blooming, and the stream running dry.
This shell with holes chewed into it by a small rodent (creating a face), may have been where I found it today for a long time.
But I know that this apple blossom wasn’t there the last time I walked in the woods because the apple trees hadn’t bloomed yet. It too probably came down with Friday’s storm.
