
The sound of a single leaf
scrape-skittering across the road,
Or the sound of hundreds,
dry susurrations and crinkly waves,
crumpling beneath the feet,
parting before the bow of the shins:
I’ll take both those paths.
Starting out from Brooklyn, an amateur naturalist explores our world.
As John Burroughs said, “The place to observe nature is where you are.”
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