The Persimmon Tree
The tree just stood there. What kind of tree? You’ll find out soon enough. But it just stood there, so I turned my restless eyes and hands to the creek, moving, wet, smellable and populated. The creek cut deeply into the Earth, as if someone had cut out a narrow strip to craft a belt or...
Childhood, comfort, communion, Earth Listening, Essay, other than human, relationships, safety
