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I am obsessed by shadows.

By day or moonlight, the thickets and trees near my house cast a virtual latticework across my path. A basket. A loosely knit sweater of vines. A net.

It makes me wonder about the squirrel that brazenly defies gravity. A vertical climb up a trunk, then a leap from one branch to another. He seems to know the circuitous path by heart. Muscle memory, I think.

Like an acrobat he skirts the branches, daring them to bow from his weight before he finds that stronger limb—the one that will lead him clear across the creek.

“Stop!” I bark as I run to catch up with him. Be careful, I want to say; those are just shadows—not a net to catch you when you fall.

One Response to “Shadows”

  1. Linda says:

    I love the photography on Sierra’s page…it is beautiful

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