I love trees. It is so simple, they grow, they are beautiful and I can’t get enough of seeing them. They are astounding sculptures, and I am in awe of their greatness. I look up at a great tree and humbled by nature.
Gum trees are my obsession. To gaze at a gum at length is a great honour. In particular there is a white gum that enchants me, and then there are a variety of others that I enjoy spending time watching, but the white ones in my area have been a rescue rope to existence of late.
I now have a new dog to walk and spend many more hours out of doors than I used to, letting him sniff around and circumnavigate the city. We walk all over the place, I am tracking gums and he is tracking what he is tracking.
I’m terrible with the tree’s names, the man-made, imposed describers, I just know what I like to see and when I see one, my heart catches in my throat and I feel compelled to do it justice by looking at each and every branch and the way it moves in the wind, and the configurations of it’s growth, the fucking lines, drawn by wind and dna, it is maddeningly beautiful under every variety of light, and in every weather condition.
I stand and watch or lie and look, and am happy.
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