
Near the Ice Age Trail in Cross Plains, a ford across Black Earth Creek. Water and earth crossing from winter into the first cold mud of spring, raw, half-thawed, with bulbs and buds, grubs and roots, and fungi and lichens and all manner of Van Leeuwenhoek’s “animalcules” awakening, the creek awash in rumors of sunlight to come. The equinox is nigh.
All along the Wisconsin
Sleepers wait to arise.
So what do you think, i'd love your feedback!