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Tuesday 29th 52F, overcast with a light SW SE southerly breeze. Supposedly mild with sunny periods for much of the day. It was slightly too warm at 58F as I walked to the far woods along empty lanes and tracks. The early, kapok, sky filler cleared to almost continuous sunshine and cotton wool balls and fleece.
A modest, boundary hedge which got away from them. The years passed unnoticed as it become an impenetrable palisade. For protection and shade on those long, tiring summer days. Of endless discourse at the rural smithy.
It's vital purpose, now long forgotten. As was the long, low, grocery shop only next door. The only witnesses, yesterday's, bold aerial photographers of tight canvas, stiff wires and stick frames.
Trees truly are the time travellers of our world. Do they slumber? As we fight our wars and torment ourselves and each other, over the mindless, ephemeral nonsense of our short lives? We have only to blink, for familiar "extras," to be snatched away. Suddenly absent from the stages of our own existence. Before we could acknowledge their valuable role as both teacher and poor example. Shadows only have value where substance has fled. Where did our own years go? That we utterly wasted them so?
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