You're as green as the season that quickens the breeze
Because of the geography of my ENT appointment this afternoon, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I walked around the Arboretum afterward. "I love dead gardens," I said as we threaded among the winter-dry clumps and sticks of serviceberry and crabapples and hellebores and whitebeam and roses. "They look like T. S. Eliot."
A parallelogram of sky through the cork tree.
I was enchanted with the peacock-sheened peeling skin of the paperbark maple.
The cypress knees looked like standing stones and seals at the edge of the ice on Dawson Pond.
A stone was sleeping under the ice like a frog.
Rob took this windblown picture of me talking to one of the cork trees in memory of the thirty-year-fallen exemplar of my childhood, now one of the ghost trees of the Arboretum. Thus we learned after we had gotten home that the climbing of trees on the grounds is prohibited nowadays.
The traffic was sticky between the Arborway and Woburn, but we ate our dinner of roast beef sandwiches with great satisfaction in the car. It feels nuts to be alive. I'm working on it.
spatch and I walked around the Arboretum afterward. "I love dead gardens," I said as we threaded among the winter-dry clumps and sticks of serviceberry and crabapples and hellebores and whitebeam and roses. "They look like T. S. Eliot."
A parallelogram of sky through the cork tree.
I was enchanted with the peacock-sheened peeling skin of the paperbark maple.
The cypress knees looked like standing stones and seals at the edge of the ice on Dawson Pond.
A stone was sleeping under the ice like a frog.
Rob took this windblown picture of me talking to one of the cork trees in memory of the thirty-year-fallen exemplar of my childhood, now one of the ghost trees of the Arboretum. Thus we learned after we had gotten home that the climbing of trees on the grounds is prohibited nowadays.
The traffic was sticky between the Arborway and Woburn, but we ate our dinner of roast beef sandwiches with great satisfaction in the car. It feels nuts to be alive. I'm working on it.
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I didn't remember the paperbark maple at all. It does look like the oil-surface of a pool. I saw it from a distance when its bark just looked as red as cinnamon sticks and then I got up close and it was full of sap and rainbows.
Your icon is wonderful. Where did you take its photo?
(Now if you can transform into a person without a sinus infection: perfection! You have the magic of sunlight on you, so ... maybe?)
I'm really trying!
Thank you for the link to the ghost trees and their stories.
You're welcome! I loved the project. I have missed that cork tree every visit to the Arboretum for the last thirty years.
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