Who looks at the trees anymore? I did today, walking in the forest along the Blue Ridge. As I became enraptured in their earthy beauty silhouetted against a clear blue sky, I noticed how they stood silently, as they have ever done.
From birth to death these majestic creatures do this, enduring all seasons, all things. In the morning when you drink your tea they’re there. In the afternoon when you’re busy at work, the trees are just standing. When you come home to a warm house and enjoy your family and your dinner, still the trees are there; and when you are fast asleep in your bed at 3 am, dreaming of some adventure far off, the trees remain – silent, present, alive.
Is there a part of us that remains ever silent, present, alive?