Linn Run, January 8, 2012

If you look at each one of these dark, naked, but still beautiful trees, stop and ponder what they could represent.  Passing by each and every one a haunting nostalgia comes about.

If you dare to look beyond the original essence of beauty a tree radiates unlike any other, you may come to find they are no less than a life, a life similar to that of you and I.  Each is unique in how their branches twist and turn beyond our knowing, growing older, stronger with each passing moment.  They shed their leaves in order to make room for the new each coming year, turning colors, changing ways, learning how to raise themselves.  The bark is the skin, the mask that hides all that lies inside, but if you’ve found luck, and you catch a glimpse of the tiny lines within, you might find.  Every slender circle, small thought, you can count the years of its very existence, each one representing a year of truths, lies, you might be satisfied that the many years, experiences you have inside is what cause you to become wise, if you look between those lines.  If understood, you have learned how to look through your eyes with nothing less than an open mind.

“A man rakes leaves into
a heap in his yard, a pile,
& leans on his rake &
burns them utterly.
The fragrance fills the forest
children pause & heed the
smell, which will become
nostalgia in several years”

–          Jim Morrison