A Crisp Green Imprint
I lifted the heavy field guide off my pocket notebook first thing this morning. Sliding the stiff cover open, I checked the maidenhair fern frond pressed between the back pages. It had flattened completely overnight, crisp and neat against the paper. Nearby, my short cedar carpenter's pencil rested in its elastic sleeve. I worked it loose, held the flat cedar barrel firmly between my paws, and carefully traced a small outline around the dried stem to anchor its position on the page. The dark lead made a soft, reassuring scrape against the grain. Now its shape is permanently recorded, right where it belongs.


