Out walking early, maybe 6:45 or so. Behind the cool, blue mountaintops, hot fuchsia. Crows--loud. Chickadees. Canada geese and three mallards. A startled Blue Heron. I pick up a pine cone and feel its scalloped edges. It's one of those long ones, perfectly shaped. A woodpecker clatters on top an early spring tree, still gray and leafless, but not foodless. The stream runs. It falls over some rocks and into a shallow. There's this bamboo kind of stuff, grayish tan, somewhat brittle. I break it in half, peel off thin strings of the outer bark, then crack the whole tube open. Inside is spongy, then sawdust-like. It's marshmallow colored. I wish there was a way to always know the names of things.
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