trees

I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.


Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.


Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.


After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it. As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.


Wendell Berry





Where the giant copper beech fell last year, many tiny trees are beginning to grow. This holly is one of them. We hope to plant more trees in the Spring, but in the meantime, I started a grove today at Trees For Life, which is a rewinding project in the Scottish Highlands. Our grove has 6 trees in it so far, but we will be adding to it on birthdays and other special occasions, or to honour our loved ones when they die.