Is it true that the wind
streaming especially in fall
through the pines
is saying nothing, nothing at all,
or is it just that I don't yet know the language?
The trees are our interpreters. They tell us what the world is saying. From which direction does the wind come, how strong is it, how variable is it, and how long does it last? From this we know if a storm approaching, a front coming through, or the breeze rising from the changing heat or from the water.
Once I was in Nashville when there had been storm warnings all day. Towards the end of the storm I turned off the TV and radio, figuring any tornado possibilities were gone. Suddenly it got very dark and I looked out at the trees, some of which were bending to the point of snapping in two. The tornado passed by just a few blocks away, though I couldn't tell except for the trees..
Another time I was in Northern California and couldn't figure out what a door had shut in the house and why my clothes were swaying in the closet. I looked out at the trees, and in seeing their rocking, I knew an earthquake had struck.
So I look often to the trees, for they speak in birds, in flowers and seeds, in wind, and in beauty. Such a lovely language.
What different languages are there in your life?