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Plate I — From the Field Guide
Pressed Between the Pages
Every specimen here was found, noted, and folded away for keeping. The oak that sheltered the letters. The fern that grew where the path forked. Small things, remembered slowly.
“The woods keep no secrets from those who learn to read the margins.”
A Cottage in the Thicket
Old Letters, Found in the Leaves
Turn the pages by candle and lamplight. What was buried under moss and season is set down here again, ink still faintly warm.