In September, every garment in my wardrobe seems to have acorns in its pockets, offerings from trees in the garden, in the park near my home and out in the Lanark highlands. After years of rambling, I have come to think of the towering woodland people as sisters. On sunny autumn days, I find a seat among my kin, and we have conversations, some of the most thoughtful and enlightening discussions ever. I have no leaves, and I don't bear acorns, but the great oaks welcome me nevertheless.
Pockets without acorns rattling around in their depths enfold other offerings, pine and spruce cones, conkers, walnuts, butternuts, beech nuts and shagbark hickory nuts. I adore their shapes, their colors, their textures, their fragrance, the whole season of their fruiting, and I can never resist gathering such things out in the woods. Autumn is a season of entelechy, a time of becoming, of once and future trees.
Turning my pockets out this week before chucking everything into the washing machine, I realized that there has been a whole forest riding around with me for several days, and it made me smile. No need to pine for my tree sisters when I am away from the woods - they are right here with me.
1 comment:
There is a very real camaraderie with trees, isn't there! The 3 oaks in our front yard are particular allies of mine, and when I walk to the road, the bush on the south side of the driveway holds a peculiar fascination for me. What is it, I wonder, that has always made me long to walk into the centre of them? The bush on the north side does no such thing. Anyway, they are friends.
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