for what feels like an allegorical interpretation of recent / current events (this build up this shake up this burst and such forces evolve us) / through an appreciation for the wondrous, awe-inspiring geological architect that is the Volcano. When I lived in Alaska, there was no day that went by where the respect for these features on the horizon didn’t take hold of the imagination, and being here again in Wyoming where skeletal navel cores of ancient Volcanoes (and new ones broiling underground) in high desert sprawls command reverence too. This brings me to the Tree of Life: a Volcano is where earthen birthing begins. The eruption crafts craters and mountains and overtime, nutrients burst like revelations from the stone, and new life can recover grounds for fertile soils (woven together and orchestrated by the mycelial kingdom ~ of whom we have the most in common with by scientific standards). I think of Mato Tipila by the Lakota (poorly known as Devil’s Tower to us) especially. It looks and feels like a giant tree stump.