pinhole 1362

It is a fragment of forest on a city street. It is a bench to spring birds, an inspiration to summer poets, a helter-skelter to squirrels in fall. For dogs it is a place to sniff and piss and sniff again, twice a day, every day, year in year out. In winter, when the birds and squirrels are quiet, the dogs go quickly about their business and the poets stay in bed, a man comes with a slow camera to catch the essence of the tree. Other elms become furniture, spindles, coffins and hockey sticks, this one is protected. It was planted here in the year that Ulysses S Grant became president, but presidents (like dogs and poets) come and go; while trees and pinhole cameras take time.

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