They keep an eye on us, anyway.
While I’ve found all sorts of spectacular ordinaries in the last week’s peregrinations with Himself the Gilgamesh –
[a not-yet-sappy pear orchard, all gnarly bare elegance ~ Doric works of beavers fit to hold up temples ~ a humble witch hazel wearing frothy spring-harbingers ~ pedestals exposed when the tree is knocked off]
– it’s impossible to beat the beech I encountered today.
I found a Totoro Tree.
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