reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: the trees


by 1 Comment

the trees. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we know these trees. we have walked this trail amid these trees for years now, processing life as we go. they are familiar to us; they feel like chosen family – waiting for us, to hear our voices, our laughter, the crunch of our boots on dirt, pebbles, leaves. they are curious – to hear snippets of challenges, of joys, of sorting – bits and snatches of our conversation as we hike.

these trees – all of them – the sculptural, the leafless, the verdant, the not-yet-shed-their-leaves, the evergreen – hold us, help us feel secure in this place, in this world. the curve of the trail – how we know it well – gives us pause in worry, recognizing the reassurance of the known.

there are three or four trails like that here. memorized, well-loved, never surprising and always full of stunning surprises. there is a specific trail – through stands of aspen trees – on a ridge in aspen. there is a specific trail – with the pungent scent of pine trees – along a mountain stream in breck. if we could teleport there – to either of those trails – we would. for they both speak to our very souls.

“and into the forest i go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” (john muir)

we return home – to this place on earth that can both travel with us and be acutely found in our cozy old house – with less-burdened hearts. though sometimes momentary – in a world leaning into insanity – the trail tucks wisdom-bits into us and we bring home space that reminds us to breathe in the very minute we are in, grounding us.

and so, we try to go here – to the close-by – often. especially now.

we are aware of beauty. we both notice it and look for it.

we walk and talk. we walk in silence.

and the trees tap us on the shoulder as we pass and whisper sweet nothings to us.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you. xoxo


by 1 Comment

no same-old. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

i used to know someone who really despised redundancy. this person would interrupt and say, “you already told me that” or “i heard that already”. ask them about their day and they would reply, “same-old-same-old.” it was hard for me – a new yorker – born into repetition and long-story-telling.

d and i sat on that iowa porch only four days, but it doesn’t take long to grow fond of something beautiful.

in front of us – facing east – were two trees. beyond the trees were fields. before they were mowed down, the fields were wildgrasses green with sunny yellow flowers. in the distance – quite a ways off – was the road. a country highway, it was populated by many pickup trucks, an occasional sedan, rarely a semi and, at one point, more booming harleys than we could count.

the light changed during the day. no surprise there. the sun rose to the left of the trees and burned its way into the sky. the trees glimmered and reappeared through the early morning thin layer of smoke from wildfires in canada, jetstreaming its way into the heartland. it was bright in midday and then the sky took on the echo of the western sunset. at night, the trees were still a presence, silent, rooted strength.

i took many photographs of these two trees. they were somehow very comforting and reassuring; it was a time of memorial for columbus and emotions were all over the place. and the trees stood there, steadfast.

they watched us all gather and eat and talk and reminisce and play bags and run with oversized bubble wands. they watched us hula-hoop and dance in the grass and drag chairs following the sun and escaping the wind. they watched us wander and take pictures, play with gracie-cat, pour wine. they watched – as trees do – and we watched them back.

i love each of the photos of the two trees on the east side.

because there is no same-old same-old.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

QR code or this link will take you to buymeacoffee tip jar – if you wish to help support our content creation xoxo


by 1 Comment

tree lessons. [two artists tuesday]

we know the trees well. on all three of the hikes we usually take in our area. we watch them as they change through the seasons, giving their leaves over to fallow, holding snow, reawakening. their portraits shift against the sky – from dense to sparse and back to dense. we notice when limbs fall and when nests are built in their branches. we watch as they turn from photographs of trees to graphic images, of dark and light. ever-changing. evolving. we use no filters.

eyes wide open – sort of – we move about our days. we see the people we see, do the work we do, go the places we go. some days are all about the familiar, the patterned, the every-day-ish-ness of it both reassuring and maybe a little stifling. we look at the days without noticing the days, at the people without noticing the people, at the work without noticing the work, at the places without noticing the places.

sometimes i stand just inside the front door of our home and look in. i try hard to pretend that it is my first step into this home. and i look – really look – to see what i see, feel what i feel, notice.

and days, and people, and work, and places.

the trees are teaching me.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY


by 1 Comment

which is why we walk in the woods. [d.r. thursday]

“when i am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. i would almost say that they save me, and daily.” (mary oliver *when i am among the trees)

which is why we walk in the woods.

“i am so distant from the hope of myself, in which i have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often.” (mary oliver *)

which is why we walk in the woods.

“around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out,“stay awhile.” the light flows from their branches. and they call again,“it’s simple,”they say,“and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”(mary oliver *)

which is why we walk in the woods.

and this day – the day of this trail – we hiked the familiar, listening to the greetings of trees who knew us, remembered us. it was comforting and, though they were silent but for the rustling high above us, they rained down the last of their leaves on us, like a ticket-tape parade.

which is why we walk in the woods.

“trees go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!” (john muir)

we leave a bit of worry behind in each step. we will retrieve them later, all the bits. we dream and wonder and walk under the canopy of these giants that stay with us, tuck us in, give us pause. we shuffle our feet through fallen fall and draw in long breaths of musky leaves piling around the underbrush.

which is why we walk in the woods.

“between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.” (john muir)

and between every two oaks and every two maples and every two hickories and every two ash and every two cottonwoods and every two elms and every two willows…doorways. “it’s simple,” they say.

which is why we walk in the woods.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

HELPING HANDS