“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.”

– Herman Hesse

I have not learned how to speak to trees, but I am beginning to learn how to listen to them. For me, trees have always been the most worthy of preachers. They stand alone, like prophets and wise men.  I love them most when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons, not piteous hermits, but great men and women. In their highest branches the world rustles, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. In their lowest limbs, they brush against life on the earth. On one end, they touch the sky, on the other, the most common dirt.

They are symbols of independence to me, no one presumes to tell them how to live or grow or stand. There is a wisdom to them, and a glory in the way they reach up to the heavens, always upwards.