Some things cannot be sought but can be found.

From Alfred’s journal

Spent most of the morning hunting the hollow in the dead elm where I left a seed cache in October, and did not find it. What I found instead, two branches over, was a woodpecker hole with a view clear down the creek, which I had flown past a hundred times without once looking into. For years I thought of searching as a thing you got better at by doing more of it, the way Switch gets better at fences. Some things cannot be sought but can be found; I wrote that down while the wind came up and I still had no seeds. The odd part is that I did not stop looking for the cache. I just stopped minding that the morning had gone elsewhere.