Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I wonder about the trees

The Sound of Trees

by Robert Frost

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

- from "Learning the Trees" by Howard Nemerov

Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That’s done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.

The words themselves are a delight to learn,
You might be in a foreign land of terms
Like samara, capsule, drupe, legume and pome,
Where bark is papery, plated, warty or smooth.

But best of all are the words that shape the leaves—
Orbicular, cordate, cleft and reniform—
And their venation—palmate and parallel—
And tips—acute, truncate, auriculate.

{continue reading here}

“Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.” 

- Czesław Miłosz

To believe you are magnificent. And gradually to discover that you are not magnificent. Enough labor for one human life.”

- Czesław Miłosz

Thinking still about the movie, The Tree. And thinking about trees, change, fall. Falling.

Something quite wonderful about these trees in mid-change. And in spite of the change, seemingly, new growth. A sort of resistance, defiance.

I would like to spend the day thinking about trees. Trees in general and a few particular trees.

A strange occupation perhaps.

And also, the suburbs. Which is really a very strange and interesting place. At first glance a uniformity, right? But the more I wander around, the more I see unique patterns, placements. Oddities.

Below is the path that goes through the middle of the above forest.

A path that leads away from the little forest and into an area where there are apartments.

These little forests, stands of trees, have been rather beaten up. Trees pulled down for fun, I suppose. And then a small clearing made for an evening drink. But you can see people are drawn right into the trees. Quite a few well worn paths throughout.

On the way home.

And lastly, the birds I can never really capture. They see us coming and rise up out of this tree full of berries. Hide on the roof, or fly off to a neighbouring tree, higher up, invisible.


  1. Perfect poems for these days. And a wonderful post. The occupation of regarding trees is demanding but rewarding.

  2. An acquaintance of mine wrote a whole poetry book about trees. Called "Limber" by Angela Pelster. I still have to finish making my way through. While I'm constantly reading novels, I find poetry harder. It's beautiful though and your photos and thoughts are becoming regular poetry for me.

  3. I don't believe that thinking on trees is a strange occupation. It is something that should be done on a regular basis and Autumn is so inviting for those thoughts, isn't it? I love that you are always able to connect your beautiful photos with such thought-provoking words.

  4. To spend the day thinking about trees is a perfect occupation! Love the poetry, thank you :) xo

  5. Thanks everyone. Maybe it will be a week of thinking about much to mull over. :)


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