There are times I wish I could sit at the base of a tree and listen to the stories it has to tell. What changes has it seen in it’s life? How many bird songs has it heard in its life? Does it feel ignored when so many people walk by and really never looked at it? I touch it and feel it toughness. Solid and firm. I see it’s scars, the twisted and broken branches that its sustained through the years. How many eagles and hawks have perched themselves on it’s branches awaiting the unsuspecting field mouse. Yes, I would read a book of stories written by a tree.
“A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.” Hermann Hesse
4 Comments
Tom Dills
Trees are one of the few constants that carry through the ages. If trees could relate those stories there would be many to hear. It’s heartbreaking when a grove of trees is cleared for a new development, all those stories lost.
Monte Stevens
I’m also devestated when even one tree is destroyed rather than moved or just developed around it. I can say the same for an open prairie with sage brush and a complete ecosystem. Man is too isolated from nature. Thanks, Tom.
Mark
I wonder as well, especially for the really old ones. Just imagine the stories over 800 years!
Monte Stevens
Makes me smile when I think about the stories.