Today I wanted to do one final post related to the weekend at Drift Creek Camp. I found the creeping, clinging, crawling, hanging moss and lichen to be so awesome that I tried for quite some time to write a poem about it. But it never came out right. So here are some of the photos I took. I only had a little Canon Sure Shot, so I’m sure I didn’t do it justice. I focused on the moss, because it was impossible to get a picture of the white trillium at the base of the giant Sitka Spruce. It really was. So here it is: Poetry without words.
authorssmith.com 