Tom Brown, drying leaves, sacred Dogbane.

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Of late, what do I read? Surely is it those writings by Tom Brown Jr.

In my backyard, I've assembled a make-shift drying box. First, I built up inch-thick sticks (6) two-by-two, crossing each pair. Upon this, I laid a large old screen, and upon that a fitting glass window. I will use this device to dry leaves and roots (perhaps fruit and vegetables, even).

I was upon a rock outcropping at the point of a hill. Ahead was the long finger of Dow Lake; it streached away to my right, where it met another finger before joining the lake proper. This spot felt right, so there I finished my necklace. I first started weaving dogbane a day before, though at that time I was away up the hollow, under a shelf guarded by trillium.

I wove.

Then, I built a fire. The woody parts of Dogbane were fuel for a flame before they were ash. Before they were ash, I tempered my cord.

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