History expressed as form. Standing proud, a life before the world, with scars and wounds an intrinsic part of beauty. The twists and turns of form; magical. Unique. Broken branches, dead wood, clusters of life and leaves, unpredictable angles cutting through space. Textured art as skin.
Steadfastly growing for survival. Making the best of circumstances that cannot be changed. Forever imprisoned. Yet with stoic dignity embracing and accepting the cycles of life and death. That each year, one must start a fresh from the remnants of the year before. Another year reaching for the sky.
Sustaining the witnessed; a web of hidden growth below. Above; the visible drama of life. Below; the unknown story.
People and trees, not so different.
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An Accidental Anarchist 
EMBRACEMENT
Walking this landscape
I love trees effortlessly
People … Not so much
Whence is the cause – them or me?
I own up – The buck stops here
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Delightful presentation of the message that observation of our natural world so freely provides
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Trees amaze me more all the time. They are forever rooted in one place, able to grow wider and taller but never being able to get up and travel elsewhere. Oh, the patience, creatures, and wisdom of a tree! ~Anne
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To trees, human beings are sometimes silly, often obsessive and dangerous creatures who are always in a hurry and last but a few years on the planet.
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So true! Thank you for sharing!
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