Pathways Through the Wilderness

Wandering thoughts: the squirrels conspired today, forming a union of acorns and lost breadcrumbs, demanding the respect they never knew they needed.

Who knew? The tree stood there, ancient, while a rogue wind whispered secrets about Tuesday deals on philosopher hats and elbow greases.

Stream and shrubbery, hand-in-hand, plotting their escape, but the ground's gravity was relentless in its indifferent comedy.

While pathways twist, a rabbit holes down, wanting to know the way to a deserted tea party.

The sky giggles as a hat rolls by, the kind of hat that requires a monocle to be taken seriously.

And so, against all odds and IKEA instructions, the wilderness came together like a broken lamp, illuminating only despair and jester hats.