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| Somewhere in the woods on Smuggler's Notch in Cambridge, Vermont |
I've been thinking about the trees in my gardens lately... a dear friend long departed from this earth once told me he'd much prefer to be an old gardener with young trees, than a young gardener with old trees. This came after my admiration for the seventeen oaks in his gardens that were 100-200 years old. I came to understand his point of concern... old trees are difficult and/or expensive to maintain.... pity the poor soul who someday becomes caretaker to the hundreds of trees I've planted here....
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| An ash tree in my gardens reaches up for lack of space to reach out |
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| An old columnar maple displays its branching habit in the gardens of the Von Trapp Family in Stowe, Vermont |
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| Exploring the country roads of New England |
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| Sugar maples create an inviting entrance for a property somewhere east of Montpelier, Vermont |
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| The narrower the road, the more enticing the ride |
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| And the fragrance of fallen leaves... like none other |
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| Crossroads... delineated by ancient trees with a gathering of sanctuaries, created by men from the tree's own kind |
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| Surrounded by great forests and still they plant more... for there is never quite enough color in the autumn |
There is something about an old tree...
Standing beside a younger one,
Watching over it...
Surrounded by a rotting fence...
Living quietly,
Swaying gently,
Reproducing fervently...
And each fall
When the cold comes, it blushes, as if...
Innocent
And pure
And young...
And yet, I am sure
It has seen plenty.
It has felt raging storms,
Perhaps floods,
It has known devastation
and bled.
There is much of God in an old tree...
There is much perfection.
Take care, Larry
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