Scale of Imagination
 
The forest is still sleeping, but the last of winter's snow is melting in the shadows. The fading ice is loosening up the moss, it gives up to my ankles if I'm not careful. Down here in the hollow, I'm making my way through an alien planet, every forgotten corner where I leave the first footprints. Only hooves and paws have passed this way for who knows how long; it's a golden time to be alone. These adventures may not mean much, but they can be everything in the moment, the scale of your imagination is completely up to you. So this is me, mapping a memory, shaping discovery wherever my feet fall. Maybe I've walked more of my county than any living other, and if that's not true, I'd sure love to meet who has. I've got no secrets worth keeping.

February 22. 2018
Spa Springs, Nova Scotia