Ghosts in the Eucalyptus Grove
By Julie Martin Ending with a line from Brooke Jarvis Footsteps churn sassafras, mud, and fern leaves into confetti in a continual cycle– germinate, thrive, die, decay, give way to new life. The hollowed log of a King Billy pine garlanded with moss and mist serves as a lair for the transverse stripes that radiate [...]