On The Teachings of Winter Trees

I promise that if you bundle up this winter and walk your daily walk, the winter trees will teach you more in this season than in any other season.

A winter tree has presence. The eye can not pass over the homogenous blur of summer green. Those of you who walk your winter walk, know this. Gone is the soft green dress of leaves and instead there is the starkness of limb and branch. The winter tree has character. This one, a double trunk, this one, a broken leader, and that one and undulating bend that brushes the ground.

Winter trees draw you closer in an intimate relationship. As your eye gazes at their texture and colour, the winter trees become familiar. Pearly greys, hazy greens, slick and smooth, textured and lichened. We come to know these trees, and we come to a knowing of trees and how they move in this world.

And we come to know where we stand, how we walk, and how we move through our small corner of the Earth. Our daily walk with winter trees rehabilitates us to our sense of place. We become engaged to the world around us.

So before deciding that this winter will be like every winter, a time of curling up and waiting for spring, bundle up and greet your winter trees and walk with them. They have many teachings to share.