"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Woodsy
With all the rain we've had, the park is looking lush. Boot for scale. This must have been an oak or a tuliptree, something enormous and ancient, anyway.
With all the rain we've had, the park is looking lush. 
Boot for scale. This must have been an oak or a tuliptree, something enormous and ancient, anyway. 
Paper birch reveals its code.
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