I have a ceramic story tree on my desk. J.R.R.Tolkein wrote of Treebeard, the oldest of the Ents, in Lord of the Rings. J.K.Rowling wrote of the Whomping Willow in Harry Potter. On the farm, I’d go in the grass between stunted prairie trees to read. In Victoria, B.C. the gnarled old Garry Oaks enchanted me and reminded me of our arching elms here in Regina. The swaths of pine and fir on the mountain sides are mysterious and mystical.
To add some music to these forested memories, this 'singing tree' greets me on my walks to the grocery store. In spring, it welcomes sprouting branches, in summer displays these wonderful green leaves, in autumn bejewelled in yellow, orange and red and in winter wears a beard of snow. My friend is always changing and forever unchanged.
“Trees are the poems that the earth writes upon the sky.”
~ Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam
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