Kindred Spirits


Trees and I go way back. As a kid, I remember lying under a mimosa in my grandfather’s backyard, fescue grass soft as baby’s hair cradling me around its roots, pink pompoms waving hello from fringed branches. Later on, the tree’s base would help me deflect croquet balls through a tricky wicket.

As an adult, I dragged my chronically ill carcass out to a giant cottonwood on the edge of our property, heavily muscled limbs towering over diminished neighbors and the field beyond, reaching into my weak heart and pumping in strength. I’d wrap my arms around a fraction of its girth, and know that I would get better.

I can tell you this much: I bow to tend the flowers, but with trees stand side by side.

This month I’m taking a photo a day and following the topics of Susannah Conway’s August Break 2014. And why don’t you join me? I double-dog dare you!


6 thoughts on “Kindred Spirits

  1. absolutely beautiful, and I am a kindred spirit too. My first love was the old lady mulberry tree in my yard, about 120 years old, she grows slowly backward,hunched down by gravity and rot.
    but still bears bountious crops. And, I swear an aura of majesty in her gnarled old hollows.

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