Full of promise, this one called to me. It spoke of quiet contemplation, novel writing, plein air painting, and sorting old love letters not yet lost to the wash of time. Remembrance. A faded striped canvas slung over sturdy pine legs, supporting the weight of a personal history lightened in the summer air by a steady breeze. Displacing nothing, embracing everything.
Trees are so evocative. Rooted in the ground, vulnerable to the rush of nature upon them, they offer quiet beauty, shade and solace to the wandering beholder. At times they evoke in me a fresh stirring that quickens on the in breath and speaks of new creation.
I can’t be the only one who finds trees so compelling. Do you, too? Some of them call to me with a story to be written. This one did.