I found this shelter in the wood. Fallen branches resting between forks of living trees, and then on each other. The living supporting the dead; the dead helping the living to survive. I thought of leaning without strength to support myself, of being propped up, of resting. And in that rest to be providing some sort of shelter. These poplar saplings used to be grown to make wooden matches. Matchboxes used to be everyday objects, but now it's all about lighters. |