I owe it to the trees, who give me paper and a pencil, and beg me to speak.
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07/04/2022
We sit in hammocks under the trees and admire the earth that keeps us company. We listen to the breeze that dances with the water, the grass that sways in its own graceful harmony, and the birds that argue in branches above us. We listen as we let our love soak into the ground below
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A Promise to a Tree
If trees could talk, I don’t believe they would. The wisdom of hundreds of years tells them not to waste their breath. They’ve seen our arguments, our wars, our unkept promises to one another and to ourselves. They felt our footsteps long before they could see us. They stand there waiting, watching, hoping that their
About the writer
I’m a 24-year old Ski Patroller living in the Sierras, spending most of my time climbing up mountains and skiing down them. Writing has become my way to slow life down.
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Writing for the earth 