Diagnostic

I sat on the ground because that’s what the boulder was doing. It seemed only right.

I laid down on my back in the leaf duff so I could join the giant oak tree in tracking the sun.

But this was a woods with a clear view beneath the canopy, everything but the rocks & ferns reduced to telltale pellets. I should’ve kept my distance.

On the way home, three times I felt something on the side of my face & couldn’t dislodge it.

Hours later, at supper, a tiny, red & black barnacle of an insect dropped from my collar & began inching across the table: a deer tick. My thumb came down

& crushed it against the smooth white wood. Clear views are dangerous here. Only a sick forest can harbor such distances.