The centuries of change show through his wrinkles — a face once full of youthful scruff and colorful foolishness. Long ago the sun shone on his face just for him, vibrancy of life rooted deep inside. Decades passed, and so too the wild nature in his face. Standing, ever lonely and ever watching, as the world around grows neglectful of nature. Mister Morose, the old grump of a stump, watches as young and old alike no longer sit beneath the shade with him and listen to the breathing of the earth, but stare into static nothingness. Where did your mossy beard go? What of your wild dancing limbs in the wind? And your stories of nights beneath the infinite universe lit only by the sparkles of forever dying stars?
[ JOURNAL ENTRY — “Old Man of the Forest” Sherbrooke Forest in Dandenong National Park, Victoria Australia Thursday the 19th of February 2016 ]