we're out here and we do love what u write and how u write it.
what a wonderful tribute to an oak i did not know of.
we have one oak living on our 40 acres. it all started when we picked up an acorn from the ground under a giant oak tree in a town park in nelson, BC. we brought it home (60 km as the crow flies) north of nelson. we potted it, then repotted a couple more times until we decided we'd "turn it loose". its living happily at the interface between dense hemlock and doug fir woods and our drive near our house. seems happy w/ water only. it chooses to display differently ea late fall--different colors, different timing or leaf fall and whether to drop leaves at all until mid winter. its a welcome bright spot against the deep green coniferous woods, whether in summer or fall.
Just wonderful! Writing, art, insight and wisdom! It's a marvelous essay and made a deep impression on me at least. I read somewhere, long ago, that the least valued things are precisely the things most valuable. I had a lopsided little plant in the backyard. Year after year it would emerge from the frozen ground and no matter how I watered it or applied fertilizers, it never rounded out or prospered but stubbornly persisted, barely clinging to life. It has been years since it's been at its place under the yellow rose, but I miss it dearly. Issa, the poet, had a similar plant. He mentions it in his Year of My Life.
Excellent remarks. I often think this way about black willow. Often called a trash tree, growing unwanted from a ditch by the park, stumbling over itself but still growing. I don't spend as much time in wetlands as I used to, but I still smile at the shaggy, tilted black willows trying their best.
A thoughtful exposition on the intricacies of what some would dismiss as mere "scrub shit". Thank you for sharing your observations on the nuanced beauty of nature. Such a gift...
hi walter,
we're out here and we do love what u write and how u write it.
what a wonderful tribute to an oak i did not know of.
we have one oak living on our 40 acres. it all started when we picked up an acorn from the ground under a giant oak tree in a town park in nelson, BC. we brought it home (60 km as the crow flies) north of nelson. we potted it, then repotted a couple more times until we decided we'd "turn it loose". its living happily at the interface between dense hemlock and doug fir woods and our drive near our house. seems happy w/ water only. it chooses to display differently ea late fall--different colors, different timing or leaf fall and whether to drop leaves at all until mid winter. its a welcome bright spot against the deep green coniferous woods, whether in summer or fall.
Just wonderful! Writing, art, insight and wisdom! It's a marvelous essay and made a deep impression on me at least. I read somewhere, long ago, that the least valued things are precisely the things most valuable. I had a lopsided little plant in the backyard. Year after year it would emerge from the frozen ground and no matter how I watered it or applied fertilizers, it never rounded out or prospered but stubbornly persisted, barely clinging to life. It has been years since it's been at its place under the yellow rose, but I miss it dearly. Issa, the poet, had a similar plant. He mentions it in his Year of My Life.
Anybody can appreciate the Taj Majal, right?
Excellent remarks. I often think this way about black willow. Often called a trash tree, growing unwanted from a ditch by the park, stumbling over itself but still growing. I don't spend as much time in wetlands as I used to, but I still smile at the shaggy, tilted black willows trying their best.
Nicely put...!
A thoughtful exposition on the intricacies of what some would dismiss as mere "scrub shit". Thank you for sharing your observations on the nuanced beauty of nature. Such a gift...