I find the idea of twins something that is foreign to me. But they are everywhere. I walk by these two trees quite often and think about how they started growing at about the same time. I suppose they were planted when the old-growth forest was cut. Very few old-growth trees remain, they are worth many thousands of dollars each. Much more than you would expect. But even these two were planted with an expectation they would sometime be cut and used for something. Sometime, a long time ago, someone started walking between these, and something about that space said “Here is a good place to start a new pathway.” The evidence that we walk through forests and follow pathways tells us we have something inside us that recognizes this is the place to walk, not over there. Here. Not to the left or right. And there is something innate inside us that senses this. Like these trees, we seem to be related.
Winter in Burn's Bog
The bog, when frozen, opens up. Its interior becomes visible, its skeletal system, clear. Water that normally runs for one day and disappears the next freezes, yet the movement of the water is traced in its odd shapes and layers of frozen surfaces. Some plants are frozen inside the ice, like bugs in amber. Their colour remains bright and life like. Most of it will thaw and just go on with what it was doing before the sudden freeze. Birds fill the lower branches of the bushes and brambles, searching for seeds. They call back and forth. I don’t know if they are sharing what they found or warning others to stay away. The low winter sun casts shadows which in the spring are never disappear. It reminds you that we are moving, not the sun. We’ve got it all wrong.
The Rock Along the Pathway
A large rock along a pathway by the river, how much of it there is unseen, I don’t know. Usually it is covered with kids, as we are still close to the parking lot for the trailhead.
Desert Turnaround
Driving through the desert in Arizona there are these places where several paths and roads seem to come together. Usually very deserted their is a sense that something has gone on here, but we just won’t ever know exactly what.
