Who rakes the leaves in the forest?

When I began my November hunt in the Iowa timber, the brown leaves still clung to the branches. Over the next two weeks it rained leaves, shrinking the canopy and letting in a vague light from the overcast sky. And a question occurred to me, during those endless maddening hours in my swaying treestand, as someone who has filled a million sacks, burned a million piles, who’s going to rake up all these leaves?


~ by SpeakingZenaphorically on November 15, 2008.

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