#personal journals

These exquisite Cottonwood trees are like the redwoods of the desert. They have a quality of stoicism I’ve never encountered before in a tree. You could practically feel the longing of limbs, their waiting, their wanting, to burst into full verdancy. And there’s almost nothing more sensual, and more wise, than the sound of their leaves rustling with the wind. Such a dance it is, a sacred conversation, an entire universe in and of itself. A language, I can only know through my felt bodily experience, a sound you could create an entire religion upon. .....Here’s to the emergence of spring, to new earth songs, to the sound of holy languages, and to the possibility of perhaps our deepest longings finally, after a long cold winter being met~