Tree Worship

El Molino Avenue, Pasadena, California.

There is nothing like an Oak. Pasadena is filled with them. In the 10 years that I had the pleasure of living there, some of my greatest solace came from walking under them—strutting under them, actually, like George M. Cohan.

“Good day, fine Sirs,” I would say to them as I strolled along the avenue under their magnificent canopy, “You are looking quite mighty today.”

And they, in all their handsome grandeur, would reach their arms up in reverence and make it their business to electrify the afternoon and me and I, every single time, would saunter away feeling taller.

I think trees have the loveliest manners, don’t you?

I looked up and then I felt happy,
Trina the EverForever Tree Gazer

3 Comments on "Tree Worship"

  1. The Zadge says:

    I always think of the grand old trees as males, and the smaller, flowering ones, like dogwoods, as females. Call me a treexist.

  2. The fragrance of pine trees on a damp day is more than I can bear.

  3. The spring flowering trees are about to attend prom on the East Coast.