to really understand the undernetting
Skirting the storms about the magic cottage this morning, I began thinking about seasons in Miami.
Humming Nico’s “The Fairest of the Seasons” (on last.fm here), I thought about how difficult it is to measure time when the leaves are always green.
Other leaves near the magic cottage have small tears, holes, but these have exposed threads—
the equivalent of the detachment of oak leaves as their chlorophyll drains?
Is the undernetting the fragile future, the ephemeral present, or the threadbare past of the leaf?