resting

i deeply desire to scratch below the accumulated layers of silt that have blown over my roots these past few seasons. i want to expose myself to warmth and sun, declaring this a new day, a new moment for green growth. but then the moment passes and the desire fades--a shadowed thought that never was quite shadow because it never did block sun. i am not --however-- without growth. winter's last chill wind puppets more earth to lay still above me, a hill of calm concealment.

all this to say...

i am too lazy to write deeply or wax lovely...

so i'll just post some photos.