Into The . . .

Yes. The weather has been remarkably stable lately. Still cold, grayish, boring, but no longer the soul-crushing freeze of a Soybean Island Winter. So, having overheard information about a local woods--and there are not that many trees, let alone stands of timber on the island--that was within reach of the city, I told myself I should make the effort to find it.

And, I did:

It felt quite nice to be out of doors and among at least a semblance of Nature. I found it a bit strange, yet also a relief, that I was all alone in this place. I had expected other humans, be they residents or captives, to be out amongst the trees. But, not so. But, also, just as well. I am a contemplative and unhappy soul in this life, so maybe it's for the best that I am a lone lobo, tambien. 

Certainly, there was nothing spectacular about these woods, which were named, quite simply and accurately, Woods. There was but a basic and singular path through them and the trees themselves were spaced out, leaving an open floor littered with the dead leaves of last Fall. Actually, there were scenes of arboreal violence:

I guess Soybean Islanders do not like their woods to be too woody . . .

Indeed, it was obvious that this place was managed. Not manicured but also not managed in the sense of forest husbandry, that is, rather, managed in the sense of chopping down anything that was proven too dense or impenetrable. I think the islanders like to be able to see in the distance--the island is windswept and open and for the most part quite flat. So I suppose the locals are of a flat outlook as well.

Look! A possible home of a Soybean Island Snail:

                                           See The Snails!  Visit Soybean Island!

Otro images:

And here! A sign of the springless Spring:

These are not the Green Starfish that are purported to live along the coast--The Impossible Coast (as I have so now named it) of Soybean Island. I'm afraid they are but the beginnings of sticker bushes, or thistle, which will no doubt be cut down and poisoned by someone of authority before they can reach bloom.

Yet even among this modicum of natural nature, I can spy the world I cannot escape:

Yes. Water tower? Watchtower? Some great glob of tall metal housing complex surveillance devices?

I suppose it depends on your propensity to believe what you see or what your are told or, in your black heart of black hearts, what you know.

Despite all of the lacklusterness of my visit, it was nice enough. A diversion of sorts. Something to do.

Yes, I went Into The:

Moreover, until next time if there is a next time:

Goodbye from Soybean Island,

                                                #1957