Eight years ago, Cache Owners DianeAndSteven hid something wild. We will venture down winding asphalt trails and through stately rows of cement-bound dwellings to search for it.

Towers talk with south-moving traffic, relaying Earthling messages of blissful unlayering of gloves, boots, parkas, scarves, earmuffs, toboggans, mittens, and long socks.

Rounding THE university curve brings us past the slowly-appearing next gen of healthcare, an 800-bed deliverance of digital technology, connected to existing treatment centers for cancer, heart, spine, and brain. We opt for heart, spine, and brain engagement of a different sort.

Our exit lands us on a street so old, it’s brick. Brick runs down the street and up the steps and over the emotionless faces of German Village. Over two centuries, the hard-working and frugal residents of “die alte sud ende” have weathered anti-German war sentiment, the closing of breweries during Prohibition, and suburban flight.

Suddenly around the corner our first treasure appears, small but mighty among its towering neighbors.

Here city dwellers crowd to see the first buds of spring, feast on green-tipped prairie, and hear the warble of a waking nuthatch.

In the shadow of skyscrapers, Two-leggeds reach for play, connection to all that lives and breathes around them, and a refresh of undigitized faces – what? You still have legs?

The cache description advises us as to the delights of the Nature Center. As usual, our CO is not wrong.

The Treewhispers project dangles mysteriously. Here, participants share stories of their memories and connections with trees.

Like teardrops, each ring tells a story, stamped with the singular and precious thumbprints of an infinity of human voices.

New stories awaken with the Artist-in-Residence.

What this old guy knows, he’s not telling.

Our geomap pulls us outside, toward the river.

In amazing magnificence, the slightest tinge of emerald-flecked chartreuse peeks from a yawning, stretching monarch.

From each chrysalis, the tiny wings unfurl.

Last year’s wardrobe gets the memo. It’s over.

UNDER pressure? STICK around long enough and you’ll find it!! promises the hint. We start by looking down.

Seems to be a lot going on under. And there’s so much at stake. Here’s a stake. Was it a stick or a stake? Was it under or down? Stick that stake back down into the ground.

Tricky, cool, super interesting, brilliant — past finders tell us not to quit. Hiding in plain sight, a minuscule messenger winks.

Memories of trees float past, held within the smoothness of this tiny log in a log, and the drooping of the winsome watcher above.
Keep a green tree in your heart, and a singing bird will come.