• Fashion,  Writing

    The Language of Trees

    The aspen trees have a different energy than the cacti that I am used to. It appears as though the knots on their trunks are watchful eyes. As I stare into them, my imagination takes over, and I wonder, could they be watching me? A leaf falls. I look up. Suddenly, I feel small. Their billowing branches softly sway in the wind, as though they are speaking a foreign language that only a tree would know, and a bird would hear. And as I wandered through their forrest, further into their enchantment and mystery, I wondered, could they secretly be whispering about me? I think they’d laugh at the girl…