Tree Time

Once a week I go to visit an Oak tree.

I often feel like a squirrel when I arrive.

My mind twitching like a fluffy tail.

I try to immerse myself into a slower pace.

A more patient place.

A more expansive space.

I try to listen to my tree who is not up to much these cold days of winter.

I try to do the same.

The wind blows in the branches.

I let it blow over across my cheeks.

The snow lands on the boughs above.

I let it land on my shoulders.

Me and my tree.

So loverly.

I am a different mammal when I say good bye.

A whale? A Loris?

A Hispaniolan solenodon?

But truly, I think I am just more human.