mike_lincoln (mike_lincoln) wrote in lost_woods,

Sitting in the woods

A Fallen White Pine

Oh yes I am sitting on a fallen white pine on a windy late summer day, which I estimate to have been seventy feet tall. Covered in moss and fallen needles it makes a good seat. The sun being let in from the opening in the canopy created by the demise of this white pine offers a greener spot than the rest of the preserve. Bracken fern, golden rod, wild sarsaparilla, grasses, sedges, white pine and fur seedlings scatter the forest floor reflecting green light upon my face. This spot reminds me that the forest is a living breathing organism capable of self-regeneration. With the fall of one tree, the passing of the old guard, the forest is young again in this spot surrounded by the wisdom of the ages. Like the white pine that I sit and write on I too shall fall to the passing of too much time. In my grave I will be surrounded by the next generation. The white pine in it’s passing will bequeath the raw materials for others to grow, space for animals to live and play, water to be released to sustain life in times of drought and a seat for someone to sit on. If only I can be as useful as a fallen white pine in my passing.
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