Sometime in autumn…
I’m outside for reasons other than enjoying nature, my mind dripping with copious thoughts of numerous and diverse things, hurrying along, when suddenly, IT surrounds me like a cloak.
You might say . . . IT arrests me.
I stop. Look around. Listen.
IT—the Silence of the Trees—imprisons my spirit. For that brief interlude of time, I feel . . . rather than think, becoming an instant soul traveler to a place where deadlines and distractions and worries don’t matter.
A magical hush emanates from the foliage…
. . . descending upon me as I close my eyes.
The trees fold me into their branches to share their silent shouts of victory while they magically transform their careless, summer-gypsy branches into beautifully solemn sentinels of winter.
I hear their blood – their sap – seeping into their cores – standing guard against the approaching cold. The lonesome wail of the outer layers sacrificing their wet wood, letting it dry and harden and pretend to die, fills me with wonder.
Leaves wither and laugh on their way to the ground.
All that. I feel. When the Silence of the Trees halts me. On an autumn day.
Have you ever felt the Silence of the Trees? Do seasonal changes make you wax eloquently, feel inspired, or get excited? Maybe all of the above? Â I value your thoughts.
“Look, kid, I know it’s my fault. Careless media borrowing gets me every time!”
Especially meaningful to me. Thank you again – I needed just that & just now.
Wonderful to hear, Rick. I’m so glad. Thank you for stopping by!
Love the word pictures you paint, Jodi. When I was going to school in California, one of the things I missed most was changing of the seasons and I never got used to palm trees at Christmas. And there’s nothing more peaceful than being in the woods on a quiet day, listening to nature, no matter the time of year, since each season has its own rhythm.
Well said, Helen, and thank you!
This is such a lovely post, Jodi. Ditto with Helen, you are a skilled painter of words. The delicious quiet and solemn ritual of this change of seasons is my favorite of the year. It allows for a necessary sense of rest that will gently work it’s way into a sense of renewal by the time spring rolls around several months from now. I adore trees in any season, but definitely there is something particularly special about the silence of trees.
Barbara, Your comments confirm that I’m in the company of a fellow “painter of words!” It’s nice to share the miracle of autumn trees with someone who obviously appreciates trees as I do. As I’ve said before, I brake for trees…just stop the car and get out to look at a magnificent specimen, regardless of the season. Thanks so much for stopping by, and I’m truly enjoying your novel, The Secret of Lies. More on that when I finish reading it…!