Everything Is Temporary

May 2016

May 2017

Not far from the Cabin in the Woods is a field road that goes toward a mound of trees far away. On either side of this dirt path are fields. As I was walking last year I spied this path and the single tree that stood tall in the middle of the field, in the middle of the path, providing a kind of sentry post where there shouldn't have been one. But there it stood. Somehow against all of the adversity of the farmers ax and the weather's incessant pounding. It provided a striking form, out there alone, and shade and perhaps shelter to wild things with four legs, maybe eight, and some with wings.

My first walk being back and I noticed the sentry has been felled. For how ever many decades it has been at that spot, it was there no more.

Everything changes. Everything is temporary.

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