twas a scary night. i'm up at 248 with a bird singing desperately for dawn and a powerful car devouring the diminishing hours. i woke up wondering if r fell out of bed but she didnt. sigh relief. i woke thinking about the writer of finding the mother tree whose brother died after they fought drunkenly after he told her his wife had morning sickness after they high fived as they never hugged in that family after he said something mean about motherkind and after she said fuck you and after two months with no word he was crushed to death by a garage door. i dont know why i thought of that when so much of the book is about root tips and root cues and soil transfer and mycorrhizal fungal networks and how we perceive the environment we inhabit sort of.