change over the winds

"Sureity is a luxury,
says the man who buried the dead
From town to hall
From mountain to River
Let the people weep,
Says the man who never cries.

For in the unknown
Sureity is lost."

Fenix finished moving the dirt over the new mint sapling hed been growing in his den. Seeds were harder to get to sapling but since spring had sprung a few of his plants had thankfully sprouted. This delicate mint only had two small leaves, but with care he had placed it at the front of his garden. Already growing a few lavender plants, turmeric root, and far in the back hed fenced in a marijuana plant. Carefully he had made it a cage covered in what looked like netting. After all he didnt want a pup or some unsuspecting animal to get into that one.

Turning from the mint plant he sat outside his den that sat nearish to the borders of the creek. It doubled as a healing den too, so the inside of the hollow dirt was space for three adults and a pocket in the wall to store herbs he had dried and preserved. He admired the creek however, unable to stop himself from gazing over the bushes and tendrils of grass. Far off he could hear some fowl probably taking a swim.