On the coastal plains of southeast Alabama, I sat in the center of three adjacent tree stumps - my throne.

My castle was a canopy of leaves—walls mortared in root systems and vines.

Digging with mud-covered hands I became privy to the unseen worlds at my fingertips. 

The mud opened my eyes.  Before, I looked; now I could see. 

A bone, a fragment, a sheet of bark… Each of these housed the thunder of the whole universe. 

I’m still that boy digging—eyes wide open—and listening for thunder.