9/7/2021 4 Comments The Singing Tree
I was in the presence of the gods: time slowed. Has anyone, I wonder, sat their baby in a crib underneath an aspen tree? The invisible wind sent ripples through the canopy, leaves dancing on strong petioles, glittering light caressing their surface as they twisted and spun and never fell. What could be better, I wondered, than watching this aspen? The sunlight became something more than shadows and heat, the wind was transported into an understandable concept, the scent of the sweet meadow around rose up and enveloped me in bliss. This was where I wanted to be: forget the encroaching bracken, tune out the drone of the road noise, the aspen was at the centre of the universe and my spirit lifted with its leaves.
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