31 Days of Kissing the Wounds :: Day 23 ~ Dark Forms, Yearning

damagedshellpinepoint29may2015logo31daysWelcome to day 23 of 31 Days of Kissing the Wounds, a month of posts about the beauty, longing, and soul inherent in our damaged selves; in the world’s brokenness; in the imperfection, incompleteness, and transience of all that we love; in our recognition of each other as the walking wounded; and in the jagged, messy, splintery, deformed, sullied, unhealed parts of me, you, the natural world, our communities, the culture. Each post will look at these ideas from its own vantage point, which may not obviously connect with the others. I won’t attempt to tie them together.

*

“Trees are always the first things I seem to notice about places, or else the shape of hills. In England one becomes used to trees having dark trunks and light leafy branches; the reverse in Australia was quite astonishing. Silvery white-barks everywhere, and the darker leaves, made it like seeing the negative of a photograph. It reversed the whole look of the landscape.” — Agatha Christie, The Grand Tour: Letters and photographs from the British Empire Expedition 1922 (2013)

birchandhedgealleestgaudens8july2012inverted

oakleavesagainstskycpt16oct2013inverted

mapletreeandleaves24oct2011inverted

redmaplebyparkingpcb5oct2013inverted

nlwalkfallmaple17oct2009inverted

*

But the form of a winter tree, though it may be stark and withered, is liable also to be extraordinarily complex. The bare bark is channeled and cracked, and the directions of growth frozen into the form of each branch include saggings, twistings, splinterings, angles at which the branch has reached out or up. The form of the tree is a register of its history. The coloring, too, becomes as subtle as our approach is proximate: all the grays, blacks, and browns of wabi, with perhaps the weathered white of dead lichen or the blasted green of last year’s moss.”

— Crispin Sartwell,  Six Names of Beauty

*

threetreetrunksfells22feb2015 closerviewoddtreetrunkbarkkhnp18april2015 atlanticwhitecedartrunksbarkbradfordbog17may2015 knotelephanteyeacerdavidiifatherdavidsmaplebarktrunkarnoldarboretumjamaicaplainboston20feb2016 treebarktrunkarmelbowbircharnoldarboretumjamaicaplainboston20feb2016 orangishtrunksft7march2015 treetrunkpatternsandmossgbt19oct2014

*

Vertical by Linda Pastan

Perhaps the purpose
of leaves is to conceal
the verticality
of trees
which we notice
in December
as if for the first time:
row after row
of dark forms
yearning upwards.

lightintheforestjacksontrailtamweybridgevt28nov2013

And since we will be
horizontal ourselves
for so long,
let us now honor
the gods
of the vertical:
stalks of wheat
which to the ant
must seem as high
as these trees do to us,

boardwalkpaththroughseaoatsgrasseslaudholmfarmwells29dec2014
silos and
telephone poles,
stalagmites
and skyscrapers.

but most of all
these winter oaks,

redoaktree8april2015

these soft-fleshed poplars,

frontyardtulippoplareuonymusroadgrasssnow25feb2016
this birch
whose bark is like
roughened skin

yellowbirchbarkcpt7jan2013 yellowbirchbarkkhnp1nov2013
against which I lean
my chilled head,
not ready
to lie down.

whitebirchlogsonorangeleavestrailkhnp18march2016

*

Thanks for checking in. And be sure to see what the other 31 Dayers wrote about.
damagedshellpinepoint29may2015largelogo31days

One Comment on “31 Days of Kissing the Wounds :: Day 23 ~ Dark Forms, Yearning

  1. Pingback: 31 Days of Kissing the Wounds :: Introduction – A Moveable Garden

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: