A few months ago I made a photograph a day of the same tree, along with a line a day, to the same poem. It drew less and less interest as the month drew on, but I persisted. This month, I will post a photograph a day on Wolverine. It too will garner little, if any, interest. Nothing I ever do does, what is new. Like Wolvervine, what I do best isn't very nice. There is just too much social media, a thousand photographers, a million poets, a zillion critics out there who find too much too compelling and entertaining to stop and spend any time on a silly Wolverine toy.
That toy though, holds significance for me. It belonged to my only grandson Nathaniel, now estranged in Japan, who liked to carry it around with him. It was one of the many toys that was left behind, now stored in the shed, except for Wolverine. He goes about with me in my pocket, and when I see some danger or need for him, I pull him out, and he gets me through it.
So I will not ask you to bear with me, for you don't. I will post in the spirit of Nathaniel and think of him and I and Wolverine in our world of Logan and friends. Peace out bub.
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