What food for the imagination those sounds were.
I imagined what it was like for the "pioneers" who came struggling through, looking for new lives in this strange land ... what it was like for those who were already here when those settlers came.
I gathered cones, of course, as so many children ... and adults ... had done through the ages.
I imagined that they were treasure ... that I was exploring some distant island ... while my ship sat in a quiet cove nearby, its massive sails catching the sunlight and a gentle tropical breeze.
And more cones.
How strange they were ... how plentiful ... fragrant ... and magical.
Oh, the memories I gathered in those early, carefree days.
And now, the poem:
SINGING PINES
Tall pines comb
the summer wind
for its soft music
while I linger,
savoring memories
of childhood days
rich with the smell
of gathered cones.
© 1995
(originally published in Capper's)
***
Today's word:
savoring
2 comments:
I love that sound and you brought it to my ears. When I camped at one of the isolated places in one of the western National parks, the trees sang me to sleep--along with a cayote or a wolf howling, which unnerved me a little, but the singing trees won out.
In our woods when, I was a kid, I'd follow the path and pretend that I was the first non-indian to walk it. We did find many arrowheads there--a bushel basket of them that I could tell by the type of stone, especially the pink flint, that they had traded with others. They were there. They heard the trees sing. I loved that feeling and I'd listen to the sounds, and breath in the smell and wonder what those before me were really like and what games the kids played...did they sing?
Many years later I found out that my two brothers and my sister had all done the same thing before me and never told anyone until I mentioned it. That took me back a little...I thought I was the only one.
Again...thanks for the memories. You do carry people to wonderful places.
pine cones on pine straw-covered ground always look like a chocolate chip cookie to me.
Marti
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