Were the trees crying?
Walking the wooded path, enjoying the fragrance from the new spring growth of the trees, I passed a small lake. As I came to a bend in the path, I felt a sadness and was almost stopped by a different smell, an odor. I looked up to the left and just beyond the little lake there was a hill newly denuded of trees, felled with ragged ends, thrown this way and that.
A thought came to me or was it a communication? Were they calling out in pain, seeking help? Were the trees crying, lying twisted, broken, ragged?
I walk softly, carefully, holy by knowing -- their springs are gone.
Photo source: fotolia.com
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