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Monet's Hill |
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I wrote this in 2001 when I was at peace with the world, and it has been a great support piece for me over the past couple of years.
This has been written due to my admiration for trees and their great strength. Where they are born[germinate] is where they live their life, they can’t pack up a travel bag, spit the dummy or disappear under another name. They have to deal with what ever nature has to throw at them if they are to survive.
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Monet’s Hill
I lived opposite Monet’s hill, like his hay stacks the valley changed appearance 10-12 times in a day.
In the morning light the tree trunks are black as they stand hidden in the shadows waiting to face the day.
Just the opposite around sunset, with the full light the same black trunks turn to white knights , ready to rescue you from a day of sameness.
During the day they may be ghostly, green, frightening, calm or even welcome you to walk through their ranks.
When the wind blows it looks more like an ocean, green not blue with ripples flowing like a Mexican wave at a sports carnival.
Some trees rub shoulders, most protect their area with the only weapon they have, creating shade and starving others from the energy providing light.
When it had rained the trees hold on to the droplets of water and Monet’s Hill becomes the valley of diamonds.
Some days the trees can be seen changing their colour as the shadow creeps up the valley, similar to a lizard on a rock.
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Last Updated on Wednesday, 09 November 2011 13:40 |
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