I spend a lot of time on the ground lately.
My grandson is closer to it, so for convenience, we often meet there.
I’d forgotten just how wonderful the ground is.
Water trapped in crevices.
Growing up, I wanted to be a scientist.
I had a microscope and a fascination with puddles.
A thimble full of water
Holds a thousand lives or more
Tiny minute creatures
In an ocean
With no shore
- A.J. Bradley
I love that poem.
Musty? Peaty?
What is that smell?
It’s comforting.
I’d forgotten that decades ago
as an army sniper
I lived on the ground
literally, for days at a time.
Sun-bleached. Powdery. Brittle.
Bones at the base of a tree.
They must have been Emmy’s treats that she buried.
Our first dog.
Hello Emmy.
Funny what you notice when you stop standing over everything.