my son is reading the book “into thin air” for his english class project. he has spent several days gleefully relating the unbelievable story of beck weathers, who walked off a cliff on mount everest in a blizzard, was found and left for dead, walked back into camp and was left for dead again, and somehow survived, though without part of one arm, without most of the fingers on his left hand, and without much of a nose. i have seen enough gruesome photos of beck weathers in the last several days that, for perhaps the only time in my life, the color of these poplar leaves immediately brought to mind photos of gangrenous frotbitten flesh. as far as i’m concerned, the day can’t come soon enough when joseph moves on to huckleberry finn.
dried poplar leaves