trees

one of the great awakenings of my life took place when my aunt margaret (who has always wished to be called simply "margaret") gave me a copy of hermann hesse's steppenwolf as well as a copy of siddhartha.

they opened the world up to me in so many ways that i can trace back to that first astonished reading.

i still admire hesse's work and i'm occasionally thrilled by the unearthing of something of his that i have either not read before or which i have let drift into the netherworld that is my library and which, for whatever reason resurfaces to delight me all over again.

i'd like to share an excerpt here from one of his books entitled "wandering".

for me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. i revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. and even more i revere them when they stand alone. they are like lonely persons. in their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity:

nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree.

trees are sanctuaries. whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. they do not preach learning and precepts, they preach undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. a longing to wander tears my heart when i hear trees rustling in the wind at evening.

trees have long thoughts, long breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. they are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. but when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy.

herman hesse

from "wandering"

another beautiful excerpt from this book can be read here.