I have never spent much time in the open plains
I am a northern forest guy
My mind is used to being crowd in by trees
Tall towering pines and little scrubby stuff too
I enjoy the lofty ones
Spreading their branches to embrace the open sky
There certainly is power in those trees
Speckled Alder is the obstacle
It often is impossible to work around it
One must just crash through
We call it bushwhacking
Maybe being born in the north woods predestines one's thought process
I am certainly not a free thinker
I rather struggle getting to my destination
I think the open plains would get me into a lot of trouble
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