I have always admired trees. Their shape and their shade are appreciated. There are some trees that I especially love. I remember these as important landmarks. I look for these old friends when I return to those places.

I went back to the picnic spot by the mountain stream yesterday. I took a bag of root chips, water and my camera. I meant to bring a book, but it was left in the kitchen. I go to this place to read. There is spotty phone service and no internet here, so it keeps me form scrolling the horrific events of war and politics. I make myself take breaks between calls and letter writing and posting and sharing…

I wandered around with my memories along the banks of the streams. There have been changes. I will share that later. I was looking for things that have not changed. I need some mooring right now. What could be more steadying than an old, familiar tree?

This was one of the sights I came for…The Tree in the Dale.

It stands in the middle of lovely sloping pastures. From the picnic site, only its crown is visible. It peeks over the hills. Seeing just its top was a comfort. I was not up for a hike to its shade.

I just wanted to put my eyes on this tree that I have loved through time. I keep returning to places of the past. Searching for echoes. Hoping for old threads to attach myself to.

A tree is pretty steady mooring for that.

I am grateful for the tree in the dale.

FLOW