Green grace

It’s easier to see the limbs of trees when the leaves don’t obscure them. And yet, here, in the last days of summer, here are these graceful limbs, far from hidden. If you go “overland” toward Bussey Hill, there are fewer of the bark chip paths, so you’re pretty much left to wander on your own. Coming upon this, was a particular pleasure for me: this is the subject of much of my winter shooting.

I keep wondering how a tree would “decide” to grow limbs in particular places, twisting and turning in response to what, exactly? I can’t imagine the slow-moving physical reality and the impulses that lie behind it. And it feels odd to find evidence of such alien processes among entities that I think of as familiar.

Perhaps that’s part of the lesson for me: there is more here to look at and to think about, to muse on. There are varieties of being that are both alien and familiar and there is always more to know. And yet none of that inhibits my appreciation of what meets my eyes.