I enjoy trees in all of their glory in spring, summer and fall. But, I enjoy them the most in the winter when they are without their colors, blossoms and fruit. I love that they are quiet and resting, just watching the world. I examine their lines and their armor. Their wounded exterior tells a story, and being a writer, I make up a story about their life and the events that have occurred in and/or around them. One of the trees on our farm is so twisted and contorted that it appears to be bent at the knees. When it was a young tree with high hopes of becoming tall and beautiful, the winds began, and never stopped. Winds coming from every direction forced the young tree to turn as quickly as possible to try and protect it's self. The years created it's permanent shape as it grew older and thicker. The winds could no longer shape this tree, this bent over posture became the destiny that nature had dealt it. I watch from the window as squirrels jump onto this tree and rest in various places. Birds land on it and crack open sunflower seeds that they snatched from the seed basket. It has become a familiar tree to so many visitors. A tried and true friend and favorite stopping place for migrating birds. Another tree that I love to look at has so many knots and interesting hiding places. I am sure that during driving rains and cold winter snows, many a bird has tucked itself into one of the holes to wait out the storm. In the summer months, I envision that a member of the faerie realm takes over the protected space and conducts their overseeing of garden activities from there. Their sweet voices and conversations become part of this tree. Familiar voices and songs that only the tree knows and recognizes. I've tried to restrain myself but, on several occasions, I've stuck my finger in a few of the openings and have found feathers, sunflower seed shells and dust from the breakdown of the wood. I always want to find a lost miniature shoe or a forgotten tiny wand.
I love that trees serve as protection for wildlife and meeting places for the faerie realm. When I am near the trees, I try to look away, whistle and sing quietly so that I don't scare anyone that might be hiding there. I like to think that they are there, feeling safe and enjoying or giggling at my silly songs. I am a believer, and that belief makes my love of trees and their lives all that more special. They've heard so many stories and have been a part of so many lives. They are the keepers of secrets. Secrets that will remain within them, forever....
