Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), and several Kindle ebooks.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Trees in the Forest

You know that old saying about not being able to see the forest for the trees? Or is it the other way around? Whatever.

Before the trees leaf out, you can see them much better.


Take a look at some of the trees in my forest. Here are a few just coming into bud.


The one below looks like a strange creature that's dancing. Or something.


Here is one of my favorite trees along Polecat Creek—three different views starting at close to the top:




The neat thing about this tree is its roots. They look like sculpture.


It wasn't far from this tree that I found Hubert when he was a tiny puppy. In the picture below, Hubert visits his roots (couldn't resist the pun).


Maggie visits the roots, too. All my dogs have been fascinated by them.


The tree hangs way over the bank, so there's sort of a cavern under the roots. One of these days, the bank is bound to give way, so I try to enjoy this tree while it lasts.

On Smith Farm are several elderly walnut trees. Their bare branches are abstract art.


Every so often an old branch drops off. Nothing lasts forever. Nature is always changing.

I love looking at the forest—or the trees. Whatever.
~

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2 Comments:

Blogger Amy Tate said...

Shannon and I hiked around our property on Sunday afternoon. I found the strangest looking tree, and I'll have to let you take a look at it. Some of them do look like they're dancing, don't they?

11:27 AM  
Blogger CountryDew said...

Very nice. Spring is finally here!

I love trees, too. They are like friends. I cried the day the woodcutter chopped down the oaks across the way (they didn't belong to me but I loved them all the same).

7:36 AM  

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