Friday, April 4, 2003

Skunk cabbages. This plant grows everywhere in the swamps around here, and it looks like an alien invasion of bright-as-yellow hoods, skulking around the undergrowth. Don't they know they don't blend in? Maybe it's like crickets, how they can't actually hear the noise they make when they scritch their wings together: maybe the alien skunk cabbages are perfectly camouflaged in some sense that they have and we don't.

Spring is coming, if not already here. The mountains are still amazing and alive, huge beautiful presences around me. I don't care if that sounds all touchy-feely-hippie, I really don't.

I'm packing, and planning my trip home, and still trying to remain sane. I think I'm doing an admirable job. Pat me on the back, wouldja?

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