Two trees grow side-by-side, time weaving their pattern across the dusty pathway, a strange maze of hard bones, like arms waiting to greet you.
Below, soft roots entangle like lovers holding hands, searching for the life- sustaining water so new leaves can grow on the branches above.
This dance of love can last for more than a hundred years.
The spirit of any tree is gentle. I have noticed when walking in the woods, the wind drops and the trees stand still as if in salute, a thank you for your visit.
They communicate with each other, leaning their branches towards oncoming footsteps. If they feel the approach is harmful, they lean away from danger. From young boys with sticks beating against their trunks.
They remember your touch, the sound of your voice. In a way, they remind me of elephants for many of their trunks have a similar pattern to an elephant’s skin.
When I take a walk to visit my favourite tree, I have noticed on a warm day when there is no breeze to speak of, the leaves on its branches lift in a sweet rustling. The sound of welcome.
You may think me daft, but find a tree that speaks to you, put your palms on its trunk, lay your troubles at its roots. You may just feel a good deal lighter on your way back home.
Something will call you back to that same tree.
It is a friend of a different kind…