Seeking solace, self examination and peace. All of these things come to me when I am in nature. My house is located on 40 acres of farmland and woods. Between two of the fields, a line of mature oak trees mark the antiquated property divide, established by colonial famers. To me, trees have always seemed carriers of quiet wisdom. Their bows reaching skyward, placid and ancient, yet fluid and graceful. The forest is where I went as a child to play and seek entertainment among its leafy green foliage, and damp fallen leaves. As a young adult, life has removed me from the woods with its crawling insects and trickling streams, pulling me away from my point of solace into the transient world of school, work and the other temporal indulgences of a teenager. Removed though I may be, I retain a certain elemental sense of woodland serenity. No matter how strong the shackles of modern society try to erase from my life the quiet solace of the trees, I will not release their silent teachings. I crave to return to my former haunts and experience the woods as a child would, full of glee and youthful innocence. However that is impossible. Nobody can recreate the past. If good fortune should have it that I do return to the woods, my favorite oak tree will still silently greet me as an old friend.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Oak Trees
Seeking solace, self examination and peace. All of these things come to me when I am in nature. My house is located on 40 acres of farmland and woods. Between two of the fields, a line of mature oak trees mark the antiquated property divide, established by colonial famers. To me, trees have always seemed carriers of quiet wisdom. Their bows reaching skyward, placid and ancient, yet fluid and graceful. The forest is where I went as a child to play and seek entertainment among its leafy green foliage, and damp fallen leaves. As a young adult, life has removed me from the woods with its crawling insects and trickling streams, pulling me away from my point of solace into the transient world of school, work and the other temporal indulgences of a teenager. Removed though I may be, I retain a certain elemental sense of woodland serenity. No matter how strong the shackles of modern society try to erase from my life the quiet solace of the trees, I will not release their silent teachings. I crave to return to my former haunts and experience the woods as a child would, full of glee and youthful innocence. However that is impossible. Nobody can recreate the past. If good fortune should have it that I do return to the woods, my favorite oak tree will still silently greet me as an old friend.
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