Old beech

In truth, I have no idea how old this tree is. I do know that it suffered several levels of indignities. That it is still standing suggests the different ways in which trees seem to live. In this instance, a large section of bark was ripped off the lower part of the main trunk; I’ve no idea what caused that. And, of course, there is one of several sets of initials carved into the living bark.

I wish I knew this tree’s story, how it got wounded. And I imagine I might learn what it feels like to a tree to have initials carved in your bark. Anthropomorphizing, that’s what I’m doing - imagining that trees think or feel like people. Unwarranted, most likely.

But that’s not to say trees don’t “feel” and “cooperate” and do other things we humans assume we alone are capable of. For the moment, I’m content to notice these old beings, imagine I am a friend to them, and find interesting aspects to look at.