Professor Snowball is the snowball tree in my backyard. He changes with the seasons, like we all do. In November he is a dying fire with his last red embers drifting down into dark days. In January he stands stark naked. In  spring he begins to bloom. By May he is covered with heavy snowballs which pull his branches down low. Then a brownish tint starts to gnaw at his glory like slush on the side of the road. This morning (like every morning) he is in full mutation. More brown than white. Soon he’ll be covered in luscious green leaves, then fiery red flakes, ending with his skinny stick branches covered in winter’s white frozen ash. I observe Professor Snowball as he evolves, dissolves and revives. He continually changes his outer cloak, but never what he is inside.

Continue reading “The poppy” →