Mounded Twist

As my father Michael Travers wandered into the woods to play flute with the birds I sat down in the moss. Soon I was collecting sticks and stacking them round. The pile spiraled higher as the sticks got smaller and soon a towering mounded nest was created.

of beech twigs and bellbird song

The soft high light fell through the Beech trees.  Birdsong and flute mingled over the moss which softly cradled me as I observed the Natural Construct.

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