Sap Like Blood

Sap Like Blood

Walking in the deep woods there are many signs of violence. One has only to be observant. The pile of feathers between two trees tells a tale.

Maggie races off into the underbrush, led by her retriever's keen nose, returning reluctantly to the whistle, an old long bone carried like some proud trophy. "Drop it!" She looks up, wounded, "What did I do?"

Walking yesterday, the familiar fallen trunk was painted in red streaks. I saw blood, leaping to the wrong conclusion. It was congealing sap. The photo doesn't capture the wet droplets, more golden, more maple syrup, drying to this deep blood red.

I think, no, I'm sure, no, I believe, it is sap.

Thanks for stopping by. What are you writing about today?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.