Sunrise On the Mountain of Forests

Winter/Spring Solstice is this mornings praise, Sunlight warms the tips of the branches and call for the trees to begin their green.

Mornings begin with quiet in the forest.  From the floor of the forest looking up the branches break their embrace of stars as the sky turns from black to blue, wind will whisper good morning and birds sing their praise of another day coming.

Winter/Spring Solstice is this mornings praise, Sunlight warms the tips of the branches and call for the trees to begin their green.

  Hackberry, Maple, Beech, Elm are just part of the Deciduous that make up the forest of many and speak amongst each other in the way trees do, silent vibrations that branches and roots understand, and trunks hold the conversations from the years of standing in the sky.

Green is the season of the new leaves, they begin in the branch as buds, each day they take in the sun, as brothers and sisters turn the whisper of a breeze to a rustle, trunks send them stories of the years behind them.  They grow as large as they can, no two leaves are the same, and spring rains feed them with Earths promise that life is never ending.

 Blue is the color of Summer, the leaves now have the stories of their Trunk, Breeze and Earth in their veins.  They tell their story of moisture to the Sun, Brothers and Sisters of their Branch feel their own stories being shared with the Trunk. Blue is what concerns them now, they extend themselves into the breeze.

Orange is the color of Autumn; morning Breeze sweeps the tip of the leaves with a chilled certainty that their story is almost complete. Its time to send their stories of the Breeze, of the Moisture, of the Sun Into the trunk. With each story, they turn ever so slightly from Green to Orange, they no longer bend with the breeze or take in what it has to say, they are only concerned that their story becomes part of the Trunk, and resist letting go until their story becomes ingrained as Bark.

White is the color of Winter, Mornings are later, the Breeze is colder, the Sun is now farther away, Leaves are letting go, now in brown as they lay on the Earth, becoming food for their trunk.  It is the way to make their story complete.  As their color fades to the Earth and moisture covers them, they look to the Sky and see the Blue turn to Black.   The leaves last thought: It will be Silent as Stars embrace those branches where they were Green. The Trunk is a bit taller this year, so more Stars are embraced, my story is with them now when the Green will be called out again.