Nasty Conjugation

There are curtains of bright, green corrugated ooze piled up above the surface of the pool. Rising from the center is the exposed tap root of an old live oak; there’s ooze hanging from it, too. Ten feet above there is a stream falling through the bottom of the tree.

The limestone has eroded away to make a tiny cave, like a sunken shrine.

You can hear it from about a half mile away, and beneath the oak there’s a continuous patter of gently falling water.

The base of the limestone is deep green and luminous, giving way to dry white shadows in the cave ceiling. The ooze creeping up the root glows and flashes as little orbs of water accumulate and drop into the forest pond. Some ferns and creepers have begun the climb up the back of the cave.

Almost twenty feet above the surface of the pool the body of the tree juts out of the forest like the keel of a ship, and the creek winds slowly away into the woods.

I hiked ten miles with the one I love today, saw a deer, two copperheads, and an unreasonable number of spiders. Soon we’re having campfire chili. All in all things are looking good.

This entry was posted on Monday, September 22nd, 2008 at 8:10 pm and is filed under Entropy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.