In the vernal pool on top of the mountain, the trees shiver even when there’s no wind.
Wood frogs have anchored their egg masses to a pair of sunken twigs.
Long shadows inched over the leaves & the moss while the blue-headed vireo recited his song from memory.
A mourning cloak butterfly passed me on the ridgetop trail, & I turned & watched it until it was out of sight.
A wild turkey burst from cover, got tangled in a black birch sapling, & fell back to earth.
Some disturbance of the universe would be unavoidable even if I never left the house.
Hours later I remember to check myself for ticks.