Green Reprise

It is easy to see how these fens breed superstition. Even in the wet and dark of winter, life wriggles forth. Myths emerge like dark butterflies, but there is a rawer power than that at work in this deep earth. 

Learning to restore fruit trees in an ancient, restored orchard I came upon a grove of apple trees that might have stood a thousand years. Their boughs cupped out low over the ground, each as thick around as my thigh. Each dressed in moss so green that even in the grey light it seemed ablaze. That glow pulled me into the grove, seducing me. Leaf free, fruit free, but so obviously and deeply alive.  There is no darkness that can completely enfold the life force in these trees and I longed to fold myself up in those strong green arms and be healed.

Here is the source of a thousand religions, and I want our orchard to live as long.