Great pictures! I want to live amongst trees. Trees are good. As long as they don't get upset and drop on your house, it's good to live with them all around.
It's all so beautiful this time of year. Fancy dress on the trees, a final blaze of glory before the austerity of winter. I always think this is my favorite season, but I know that when winter come I'll think it is my favorite, and the same with spring and summer. I guess I just like this world and what Mamaearth does with it. Beautiful photos, Cheryl!
I read this the other day, and thought about your post:
Some people, told of witness trees, pause in chopping a carrot or loosening a lug nut and ask, witness to what? So while salad is made, or getting from A to B is repaired, these people listen to the story of the Burnside Bridge sycamore, alive at Antietam, bloodiest day of the war, or the Appomattox Court House honey locust, just coming to leaf as Lee surrendered, and say, at the end, 'Cool'. Then the chopping continues with its two sounds, the slight snap of the separation of carrot from carrot, the harder crack of knife against cutting board, or the sigh, also slight, of a lug nut as it's tightened against a wheel. In time, these people put their hands under water and say, not so much to you but to the window in front of the sink, 'Think of all the things trees have seen.' Then it's time for dinner, or to leave, and a month passes, or a year, before two fawns cross in front of the car, or the man you've just given a dollar to lifts his shirt to the start of the 23rd psalm tattooed to his chest, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want," when some people say, 'I feel like one of those trees, you know?' And you do know. You make a good salad, change a wicked tire, you're one of those people, watching, listening, a witness to whatever this is, for as long as it is amazing , isn't it, that I could call you right now and say, 'They still can't talk to dolphins bur are closer', as I still can't say everything I want to but am closer, for trying, to God, if you must, to spirit, if you will, to what's never easy for people like us: life, breath, the sheer volume of wonder.
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How stunning! They are cathedrals, huge and ancient trees, reaching up.
ReplyDeleteGreat pictures! I want to live amongst trees. Trees are good. As long as they don't get upset and drop on your house, it's good to live with them all around.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. I love trees too. Ta.
ReplyDeleteIt's all so beautiful this time of year. Fancy dress on the trees, a final blaze of glory before the austerity of winter. I always think this is my favorite season, but I know that when winter come I'll think it is my favorite, and the same with spring and summer. I guess I just like this world and what Mamaearth does with it. Beautiful photos, Cheryl!
ReplyDeleteThose are great pictures Cheryl...what a perfect setting for a retreat.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jessa. Fall is my absolute favorite time of year.
ReplyDeleteDorene, thanks it is a beautiful place to just be.
Thanks also Bennett, Sharon and Erika. We all need more tree time.
ReplyDeleteWhich should I look at
ReplyDeleteforest or trees?
:>)
Tom the spaces between the forest and the trees are the most revealing.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was like...deep.
ReplyDeleteHa!
ReplyDeleteWow Cheryl, I like the 2nd to the last picture. I love the colors, y'know?
ReplyDeleteThanks Kat.
ReplyDeleteI read this the other day, and thought about your post:
ReplyDeleteSome people, told of witness trees,
pause in chopping a carrot
or loosening a lug nut and ask, witness
to what? So while salad
is made, or getting from A to B
is repaired, these people
listen to the story
of the Burnside Bridge sycamore,
alive at Antietam, bloodiest day
of the war, or the Appomattox Court House
honey locust, just coming to leaf
as Lee surrendered, and say, at the end,
'Cool'. Then the chopping
continues with its two sounds,
the slight snap of the separation
of carrot from carrot, the harder crack
of knife against cutting board,
or the sigh, also slight, of a lug nut
as it's tightened against a wheel. In time,
these people put their hands
under water and say, not so much to you
but to the window in front of the sink,
'Think of all the things
trees have seen.' Then it's time
for dinner, or to leave, and a month passes,
or a year, before two fawns
cross in front of the car, or the man
you've just given a dollar to
lifts his shirt to the start
of the 23rd psalm tattooed
to his chest, "The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want,"
when some people
say, 'I feel like one of those trees,
you know?' And you do know.
You make a good salad, change
a wicked tire, you're one of those people,
watching, listening, a witness
to whatever this is,
for as long as it is
amazing , isn't it, that I could call you
right now and say, 'They still can't talk to dolphins
bur are closer', as I still
can't say everything I want to
but am closer, for trying, to God,
if you must, to spirit, if you will,
to what's never easy for people
like us: life, breath, the sheer volume
of wonder.
-Bob Hicok
Thank you Sharon that is beautiful.
ReplyDelete