Horse fields revert to native flora.Flowers, grasses, shrubs, trees;oak, maple, cottonwood, witch hazel,willow, blackberry, and arrowwood.Fauna sing, chatter, chirp;feeders, watering stations, and tidbits of the compost piledraw them back – and apples.Pileated woodpeckers, possums,humming- and bluebirds,chipmunk, squirrel, and whitetails, who come near to graze at duskafter sweet fallen nuggets.

We don’t consciously acknowledge we are walkingthrough sky, but when fogarrives, we know we arewalking through clouds.Weather report says fog today.So far the clouds are notbelow the trees. It’s easyto see the wind jostlingthrough the leaves.

Sometimes my dreams are filledwith patterns seen in kaleido-or electron microscopes.Where do I go? Where have I been?Is my wiring short-circuiting?Or does my dream machine plug into other dimensions?Kaleido and/or micro?Where and/or when?Dementia and/or dimension?Does it matter?It’s far out! :)