Lessons From the Kissing Booth

I couldn't even say for sure what I've been thinking about lately. Cogon grass, for sure, and its way of inviting fire and burning hotter than anything else around it in order to make room for more of itself. A tiny miracle baby belonging to a friend, born only on the edge of life and fighting along a blurry line next to death. A poem by Deborah Pease about a hummingbird held in the hand and a picture of a wombat and a wallaby snuggling together.

I have been thinking about the crooked forest in Poland, this grove of trees all bent deliberately by human intervention and then left uncut. These trees sit surrounded by trees that grow straight, kneeling in quiet mystery. No one knows for sure why anyone would need such curiously bent trees, and the trees themselves are keeping their secrets.