I found a new cluster of trees to talk with.  There is a swamp near my new job, and within minutes I am on a old trail into a cluster of birches.  They are mostly young, some fallen, now exhausted from fighting each other and the web marshy soil.  Alders and pines sprinkle into the tiny forest and I walk and we talk.

They remind me about being eager to live.  The sprout and gaggle, white and earnest. I tell them they look like tall zebras, and they laugh.  “What’s a zebra!?”

We enjoy our conversations.  They are not used to someone talking with them and have much chatter about the ducks and the lovely mess the bushes create.  They remind me about how spring will wash the walk with green cover, and we will be in even deeper privacy singing songs to the Goddess of the Glen.