I think trees are the dominant species on this earth. They are older than us and wiser than us, and contain forms of intelligence that we are only beginning to understand. A human is a fruit fly from the perspective of a tree. Recently I started following this account on Twitter called The English Oak Project (@TheKentAcorn) They post pictures of beautiful giant oak trees, also leaves and flowers and mushrooms. The man who runs the account recently posted that he not sure if he’s giving or receiving energy when he touches a tree, but does it every day anyways. I think that more people could stand to lay their hands against the bark of a tree, and consider the exchange of energy.

TREES I LOVE
When I was in college I would often take my hammock to Pease Park and lay between two trees. My spot was always the same. The trees were huge and old and their positioning made it to where I was somewhat shielded from the other park goers. Never once in my years of going to the park did I catch someone else in my spot. It was always open just for me. To put up a hammock, you must wrap your arms around the trees, and if you do this with loving intention, it becomes a hug. Each time I came to the park I would hug the trees. Suspended between their trunks, I would read, write in my journal, call my parents, take naps, cry about boys, record voice memos, eat snacks, and listen to the bugs. One day close to my graduation, I took a small amount of mushrooms, and despite having other plans for the day, ended up at the park. I cried looking up at the familiar canopy of leaves and said thank you to the trees that had held me for those last four years.

Another favorite tree of mine was the one that stood in front of my window at my parents house throughout high school. This was a tree protected me from having to look out on the wide, flat suburban street the house sat on. Instead of my view being of the neighbors house and lawn, my view was of the leaves through the seasons, the motion of the branches in the wind, and the birds and squirrels that frequented. The day I turned 18 there was a big storm that split the tree and knocked most of it down. The metaphor felt obvious to me and I threw a big tantrum about not feeling ready to grow up.

The last trees I want to mention are the two that sit on either side of the apartment building I now live in. When I am up the roof of building, which I often am, these trees provide shade so the blacktop does not overheat. They also provide something beautiful for me to look at. One of the trees has branches with very symmetrical leaf patterning, and when you look at them you feel kaleidoscopic. The other has bigger, more billowing leaves, that are fun to watch move in the wind.