I passed my Sycamore on Route 67, and it waved to me again, it talks to me and waves its graceful eyes at me, and I stop and pull over and walk across the field and I accept the idea of energy when I talk to this tree and it talks back to me. It is unlike all of the other trees in the forest along the road.
5
March
My Sycamore, Cont.
by Jon Katz