Wind whips storms of paper and dust, rain drives east and Misstree drops a large arm sized branch. I view this drama from bed. Madonna blares into my brain from bluetooth speakers. We are all connected now, I assume.
She drops another big one onto a long grey-blue bunkhouse at the back of the Sulter property. I look away to type my glance back in time to see this one slip off the bare tin roof to the ground.
I’ve been worried about Misstree for a while. More later. Foremost on my mind, can i transplant this gift and bring her lifeforce and mystery with us into the future?