Raccoon tracks.

Raccoon scat?

It's been -40ºF/C in Novosibirsk for the past few days. I can't believe it's December right now, and that it will never get that cold here in Virginia. It's a whole other world.

This was a cool spot, but I tried developing this roll myself and screwed up.

Archaeology building down the street (with the mammoth skeletons) in Akadem.

Finding the Scarf

by Wyatt Townley

 

The woods are the book

we read over and over as children.

Now trees lie at angles, felled

by lightning, torn by tornados,

silvered trunks turning back

to earth. Late November light

slants through the oaks

as our small parade, father, mother, child,

shushes along, the wind searching treetops

for the last leaf. Childhood lies

on the forest floor, not evergreen

but oaken, its branches latched

to a graying sky. Here is the scarf

we left years ago like a bookmark,

meaning to return the next day,

having just turned our heads

toward a noise in the bushes,

toward the dinnerbell in the distance,

toward what we knew and did not know

we knew, in the spreading twilight

that returns changed to a changed place.

Out at the cove.

By Reed Creek.

Cabin Creek Trail.

Trail Boss Trail.