Reflective beads of sweat are the foes of my eyes, a salt laced acid that reminds me of human fallacy. Gardens are flourishing and plants are growing along the projected lines of division. Soon grates must go up for the beans to grow. Much in life is turning around and is becoming a great joy.

Not like I was sad or anything just that the growth of things are always wonderful. Even the chickens are happy as they grow every day, clucking their life away with a sense of envy from myself at such a leisurely life. Though I hold no major things under my wing, the lives that rely on me are many, both in fur and feather.

To the life I have I give all the love, for they are concealed in daily duties, they are always the best days of my life. Though this is a short post it is because I almost have my life in dailies figured out and vids and recordings are going well, so I must depart to get more of them done.

Much love

Your Friendly Ginger From The Woods.