Talking Trees

A friend once told my mom and me that she could hear the trees moaning as they were being chopped down.  Until that time, I hadn't thought about emotions and trees in the same breath, but here was a respected friend and naturalist telling us about her intimate communication with trees.  Someone at church recently read a Native American writing about how much we could learn by listening to the trees as they talk.  So, although Larry was inclined to spend his Sunday afternoon on the couch, I urged him to go out into the woods with me to see if we could hear the trees.  I'm sure he thought I was crazy, but he agreed to take the walk and let me do the listening.  Admittedly, I don't know what the trees were saying, but I did find myself paying greater attention to them, the rustle of their leaves, the way the wind blew around and over them. And I soaked up the moment, silent and attentive to all around me.  The trees were perhaps talking to me that day and even though I wasn't catching the message, I at least was starting to listen to them.

Favorite Drive

There's a small stretch of road linking two entrances to our local state park that draws me into it every chance I can take.  The paved road is perhaps a mile long, sheltered on all sides by trees.  In fact, the trees are so mature that their canopies lean across the road, touching each other.  I enjoy this favorite drive of mine at any time of the year, but I particularly like it in the spring when the trees are barely budding and there are so many shades of green to be seen that one can't even describe them properly.  So on a recent day when the sun was behind the clouds and the subtle shades of green were starting to pop, I found myself just needing to drive that stretch of paved road.  I drove a little slower than normal so I could observe the spring beauty.  As I concluded my drive and looked back in my rearview mirror, the sight of it all still took my breath away.