The other day a crew of four tree surgeons took down a big maple in front of our house. This was not simple. They came with a crane which meant that they had to hire a policeman to direct traffic as huge sections were loaded onto a truck by the side of the road. I wasn’t there but my husband took pictures of this extensive, noisy, man-powered operation that led to the premature death of a tree. The alternative would have been fear and the possible reality that a dead branch would fall on someone.
What about the thousands of trees at various stages of life and death in the forest, where nature takes its course? I am reminded of the dense woods that I wandered through last September on the Isle of Raasay, just a short ferry ride from Skye in Scotland. With the wind and falling twigs it was far from silent; the collage of trees wasn’t simple; and I had no sense of solitude as I wandered through. In fact, now that I think about it, I was happy, and yes, anxious to get out into the open meadow where I could look across to the Cullin Hills of Skye. On that beautiful day, without even the contribution of inclement weather, nature was not offering me silence, solitude or simplicity.
What about the thousands of trees at various stages of life and death in the forest, where nature takes its course? I am reminded of the dense woods that I wandered through last September on the Isle of Raasay, just a short ferry ride from Skye in Scotland. With the wind and falling twigs it was far from silent; the collage of trees wasn’t simple; and I had no sense of solitude as I wandered through. In fact, now that I think about it, I was happy, and yes, anxious to get out into the open meadow where I could look across to the Cullin Hills of Skye. On that beautiful day, without even the contribution of inclement weather, nature was not offering me silence, solitude or simplicity.