The trees do sing and speak to us … if we but listen. A wonderful connection from the earth to our souls. Lovely photography and quote. I love standing underneath your Birch!
I think this is one my favorite posts of yours – trees are so beautiful, and the quote is perfect – really speaks to me. (…..seems I’ve said this before when it comes to your posts…!)
Nancy,
I love the perspective of the birches that you caught in the first photo And isn’t the music of the trees magical? Your post reminds me to make a point of listening even more often.
That is so true Nancy. I’ve been feeling sorry for my trees lately ~ the music I’ve heard most from them is that of the wind whipping them around. I am hoping that stops soon so I can hear more tranquil notes. :-)
Congratulations on this lovely new format and focus Nancy. Such a beautiful quote to go with this pair of trees.
Thanks so much, Diane. :)
The trees do sing and speak to us … if we but listen. A wonderful connection from the earth to our souls. Lovely photography and quote. I love standing underneath your Birch!
Beautiful Nancy! I must take the time to stop and listen. Living in the moment is so good for the heart.
I think this is one my favorite posts of yours – trees are so beautiful, and the quote is perfect – really speaks to me. (…..seems I’ve said this before when it comes to your posts…!)
Nancy, I love this quote. Where ever do you find them? You must be a lover of poetry. I always do love standing under a tree and looking up.
I couldn’t agree more. In fact, I have just been out listening.
Nancy,
I love the perspective of the birches that you caught in the first photo And isn’t the music of the trees magical? Your post reminds me to make a point of listening even more often.
Lisa
That is so true Nancy. I’ve been feeling sorry for my trees lately ~ the music I’ve heard most from them is that of the wind whipping them around. I am hoping that stops soon so I can hear more tranquil notes. :-)
We have a River Birch on the corner of our house. I love to hear the loose bark rustling in the breeze. Balisha