The rustle of trees
I started a twitter on trees and thought I’d finish it here on my blog.
Loved trees from the moment I was old enough to climb them. Every day I climbed high into the tall pines in my yard. If I couldn’t read the branches I got my father’s step ladder or asked my father to nail a few steps into the barks of my favorites. (Now, I realize that wasn’t good for the trees…)
I had no fear of falling. It never entered my mind that I could tumble down & be hurt. My mother never mentioned it. She just encouraged me to play out side. In fact, she forced us to go outside for at least a few hours each day.
I set my sights on a branch I’d like to sit on and slowly made my way up the tree zigging and zagging from branch to branch. Then I sat on the limb and looked down over my pine needle kingdom.
To this day, I get upset if someone cuts down a healthy tree for an unhealthy reason.
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