Phenology

   My location is unassuming to one passing by. Just beyond the bridge towers a four-trunked tree that shelters my bend of the creek. On the other side of the bank is a small gnarled shrub of a tree, the bark is black and olive-like. The creek runs smoothly along small pebbles and stones from the fall of the dam not but three yards above. It is quiet in its solitude from the rest of the group. When sitting among the trunks of my colossal tree I am hidden and become myself unassuming to anyone just passing by.
   Late fall proved my area a brilliant green. The grass was all uniform in color and size and the ground around the creek was spongy with moisture. The seepage from the creek extended well up near the trail. The water ran swift and unnerving across rocks that grew in familiarity with me. Tall grass grew emerald just along the creekside, the tips of their shoots dipping into the water. Under these tall grasses grew a red algea that was veinous in its spread over the mud of the creek bottom. This red algea spread along my entire site ending eventually at the mouth of the bridge. It would be this red algea that I would pay particular attention to in the passing of time for it was the most noticeable of organisms that showed seasonal change. The red would diminish in brilliance as winter set in and the veins slowly shrivelled on into themselves withering and waiting for spring. The leaves of the four-trunked tree were broad yet did not lose their pointedness. A single branch could hold ten to twenty leaves, evidence of which showed in the canopy of green that roofed this phenology site. This tree is impressive. The bark comes off with a tug in large scabs and the wood beneath is a light, healthy brown. This tree is old and used. Cans of energy drinks or tea or soda would litter the nook formed by the four trunks and tiny branches would be formed into geometric patterns purposefully in the mud. A single piece of red gum was stuck hard to one of the trunks and it remainded there into much of the winter. The knowledge that my spot was active and used was a comfort. I myself could imagine reclining  back in the nook with a beautiful girl on a warm autumn afternoon talking of sweet nothings and reciting recycled poetry into her ear. It could just be my imagination, but along a trunk of this four-trunked beast appears the worn carvings of initials inside of a heart. Lovers who long ago had the same idea I had...