May 26, 2003 ~ I Saw the Trees Dance

Monday.

I'm sorry; I've had a very busy weekend. This is the entry that I've been meaning to write for days and days.

It was almost two weeks ago, but I will never forget those moments.

Everywhere the rushing, rushing, rushing of the leaves in the wind. Not a rustle, a roar. The occasional sound of a branch snapping, falling. The trees strained from side to side, branches bending back and forth, leaves shivering wildly. Everything was in perpetual motion, and the sunlight was constantly shifting through the ever-whirling leaves. A day so clear and crisp, a wind so steady, the forest danced.

I stopped halfway up the mountain and leaned into the trunk of a tulip tree, resting my cheek against its bark, pressing my ear up to it. I listened. I could hear the tree straining, hear the music of its dance with the wind.

I reached the top of the mountain and sunk into the grass. I could sit there forever, watching the motion of the forest. Saplings bent over, older trees tossed their heads wildly, and sometimes their branches broke. There it was, all around me, life and death all together, one huge swirl of activity. Everything was whirling about me. Above my head, the leaves dashed themselves against the too-blue sky, leaves shimmering from green to silver. Filtered sunlight dashing from place to place. The air was charged with movement, beauty, life.

I sat there until I forgot time, just watching the forest move and dance. Incredible, so incredible, to witness that. I couldn't leave. I thought back to earlier that day, when I had overheard people saying that they were going to stay inside all day because the trees were too "dangerous" in the wind. Bah. Those people would have thought that I was crazy for my hike under the trees in the wind.

I'd rather be killed by a falling branch on one of my frequent hikes than die of a heart attack (or whatever) in front of a TV set after a life spent indoors where it's safe. We're all going to die sometime. But at least I have seen the trees dance.

Footnotes:

weather: Warm and sunny today, with a good strong breeze.

bookmarked: If I don't set aside some time to read soon I'm going to go crazy.

writing focus: Letters.

observation: All of our herbs have really made it to the stage, now, where we are able to harvest them constantly. It is so rewarding to be able to harvest these plants that I've grown from seed.

online journals:

"I wonder about these lonely highway shoes. They personify all that is desperate and forlorn and forgotten. A semi-squashed shoe looks just like a sad orphaned child, and its pain speaks to me. The abandoned single shoe is a lonely soul that has been cruelly left to lie in the dust without its mate. It's heart-breaking, really."

~ Jen in this entry of TranceJen.

"And girlfriend/boyfriend pairs are the worst! Especially teenagers. The boy will always order whatever the hell he wants, usually an extra-large something sugary, and the girl's drink will always be small, no whipped cream, nonfat milk. It's infuriating! I want to shake these girls and tell them not to look so guilty all the time. Order a Caramel Frappuccino and enjoy it, or else what's the point?"

~ Monique in this entry of anyone's any.

"I often ask those who ask me what it's like being obese to be me for just a moment. To understand and realize that I have to look at myself when I undress, and see my size. In every single minuscule detail of my life it's always there reminding me how big I am -- every awkward movement, every time I sit in a chair that's too small, or might sway or buckle under my weight, or how cloth strains against my body, or hangs like a tent because I want to cover it all up, or every time I suck wind when I walk up stairs, get up from a chair, or perform regular every day activities such as clean house, shower, or garden."

~ Trinity in this entry in a series.

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