Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Shakerag Hollow

A day off, sun, and my friend Greg mean a walk into Shakerag Hollow.

The trail sucking feet in mud and stream rushing, birds calling and flies buzzing, the Hollow wakes, shooting up trillium, bloodroot, hepatica, nascent Dutchman's breeches from the mouldering floor of wet leaves.


Today, I cannot name a better way to have spent two hours.

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