Gently pulling blackberry canes away from baby ferns, tending to a rescued Douglas fir, moving in and out of the coolness of the shade. A field trip to the west side of the creek to visit with goats in the unsheltered heat of midday. Pulling brambles out of trees, the smells of English hawthorn and Herb Robert mingling in the air like death. A root ball ferried away to become something else, perhaps art, as we drift apart until next time.