Shedding

Each year around Christmas the bucks drop their antlers exposing bloody craters on their scalps. They seem to heal pretty quickly and I can’t help but think that it must be a relief not to have to keep disentangling your head from every low branch in the forest. Because of the snow the antlers aren’t usually visible until the spring thaw when they start magically popping up out of nowhere. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not doing the same thing; leaving little bits of myself and of my psyche behind. That if I turned over a stone or scattered some leaves, I might find remnants of idealism or humiliation............ that the forest floor might be scattered with the remains of my childhood illusions and that the birds might weave strands of my hair into their nests. I hope so. It would be nice to think of nestling some eggs....... becoming......... recycling myself.