Were the trees crying?

 








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