This is the only time of the year, in my little part of the country, where I can see 'inside' the trees that surround us. Most of the year their bones are hidden inside leaf upon green leaf.
On a recent walk I decided to record some of them - perhaps for a playback in the summer when I'm feeling closed in by their presence. Of course they begin at the roots - here covered by delicate moss and protected from the cold by their former leaves.
Looking up, I can actually see a beautiful blue sky. Cold, yes, but expansive - I feel like I want to fly to the topmost branch where I could look out and see forever.
These branches, which I normally cannot see, now form lovely, intricate weavings. Standing below I realize how small I am in this universe and I like it.
"We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning." - Henry Ward Beecher
