Am I the only one that talks to trees? I don’t think so but just the act of tip, tap typing that question makes me realize the oddballity of it.
But I believe in them. As in have Faith.
We spied the row of oaks outside of Simiane-la-Rotonde and were drawn to them, moth to a flame.
“C’est les centenaires,” Banco, the owner of La Buissonade, our cottage rental explained. He knows. He walks this land every day with his dog at his side.
Centuries old.
So much life has passed by its bark, so many storms and flitting butterflies.
The sun was starting to slide as we found the path that lead to them. A path they lined, that had once lead to somewhere. A home, a chapel, a forgotten village.
The largest oak looked even more alive than it was, as if it could wrap its branches around me with a wap and I’d be gone. So I told it thank you for standing guard, solid strong for all of this time…
…here where the wild things are.
I want to extend a sincere thank you to all of you that responded to my previous post either in the comments or by email. What an amazing community and I feel grateful to be a reason for such fine minds to come together.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.
UPDATE: Hello there! If you are seeing this on Sunday, I am delighted to be guest-posting over a the truly amazing D.A. Wolf’s “Daily Plate of Crazy” on the idea of Provence Time…liking that concept? I thought that you would!
The link is Here.
That dog deserves a treat.
I love this post! My husband and I are in love with out of the way and somewhat derelict places that we stumble upon on our walks, both at home and while travelling. At home in Canada, we often encounter the remains of collapsed barns, overgrown rock fences, and piles of stones that were once cleared from the rocky fields of long abandoned pioneer farms. I imagine the strength of the people who carved a homestead from the harsh Canadian landscape.
'Am I the only one that talks to trees?'
Nope.
My sister hugs trees, I have many pics to prove it!
Trees are living things so who is to say they don't listen right?
Beautiful pictures as always along with sweet profound words.
I need to catch up on your blog; been away for too long.
♥
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Oh Heather, you really do inspire such wonderful conversations among your readers/friends/followers – whatever you call those folks who so regularly turn to you for inspiration. Thanks for yet another calming reminder of all that is sound in this world!
I don't talk to trees but many times I have wished they could talk to me. What have they seen standing in one place so solidly for so long. There was an old, gnarled apple tree that shaded a bench in our town. It was knocked down by Hurricane Sandy. A new one has already been planted. But I still think about that old tree. What secrets and dramas did it witness while standing guard over that bench.
I wish could just dive right into these photos, you've captured so much here, Heather. Bravo!
i love that you talk to the trees! i don't..but i talk to myself which is just strange! bon weekend! xo
Your photographs continue to amaze and inspire me.
I'm adding the Ben photo to my favorites of him.
What is he looking at?
I talk to my flowers and they do listen because last year I threatened to get rid of the roses if they kept refusing to bloom and the next day a red bud came out! But walking through my regular trek through the park, some trees just dont answer back…