Early Morning, I Visit the Twins

I find the idea of twins something that is foreign to me. But they are everywhere. I walk by these two trees quite often and think about how they started growing at about the same time. I suppose they were planted when the old-growth forest was cut. Very few old-growth trees remain, they are worth many thousands of dollars each. Much more than you would expect. But even these two were planted with an expectation they would sometime be cut and used for something. Sometime, a long time ago, someone started walking between these, and something about that space said “Here is a good place to start a new pathway.” The evidence that we walk through forests and follow pathways tells us we have something inside us that recognizes this is the place to walk, not over there. Here. Not to the left or right. And there is something innate inside us that senses this. Like these trees, we seem to be related.

The Sidewalk at Night

At night the city has a different feel. Objects seem to become something other than what they were during the day.

Also at the winter fence.

Back this week to another section of the pathway that is created by cutting down the shrubs and undergrowth next to the fence that protects the nature reserve, this tree, a willow, grows along the road, drinking water from the runoff. It seems like an old friend.