Although this mighty one has fallen,
New life springs forth
Florescent.
Bleached branches of oaks burnt down
Raise their skeletal hands in the air like they just don't care,
Kneedeep in young whippersnappers.
From this burnt-out bosom,
A baby oak stem burgeons
To carry on a new generation.
The Ancestors cluster
A freezeframe
Shamanic dance.
Dead trees are their own monuments...
Fit for a king's perch!
All photos taken by me on my Samsung Note 8, yesterday while hiking the Crab Creek / Fisherman's Trail.
