Tree shadows were a source of amusement during the early days of the pandemic. Those silent movies grew along the pavement at a snail’s pace and lengthened over the seasons.
I loved walking on and under graceful organic shapes that softened urban geometry. Haiku tributes and capture-the-moment shadow photography became a preoccupation.
Since few people were on streets, I sometimes thought of them as guests. They represented newfound kin that visited on rare sunny days. And I did not have to worry about keeping 6 feet away.
The arboreal community became familiar. I sought out gray-scale garden parties with towering, cultivated guests along with the occasional squirrel playing hide-and-seek.
What’s more, I felt a palpable connection and appreciation for crucial gifts trees offer us.
Tree shadows are simultaneously understated and extraordinary. They distill what is otherwise familiar into impromptu poetic encounters.
…
spiderweb of shadows
woven in tender bird song
connect earth and sky
…
…
fleeting rays of light
spontaneously witnessed
stretch moments in time
…
