Pine Scent

Overhead The Tree-Tops Meet - Poem by Robert Browning

Overhead the tree-tops meet,
Flowers and grass spring 'neath one's feet;
There was nought above me, and nought below,
My childhood had not learned to know:
For what are the voices of birds
—Aye, and of beasts,—but words—our words,
Only so much more sweet?
The knowledge of that with my life begun!
But I had so near made out the sun,
And counted your stars, the Seven and One,
Like the fingers of my hand:
Nay, I could all but understand
Wherefore through heaven the white moon ranges,
And just when out of her soft fifty changes
No unfamiliar face might overlook me—
Suddenly God took me!



The forest is constantly changing and renewing itself. The fir trees reach the end of their cycle and with the help of the pine beetle, die off. They start to fall, littering the forest floor. My photos just give you a glimpse of the pick up sticks piles that they form. You never know when a tree will drop. Sometimes a strong wind isn’t necessary to fell a tree. One must be aware and cautious when hiking and camping.









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