Tree soldiers

 As I walk among the three soldiers, I pause to look up and wonder what they have endured to be where they are today. In the dense forest, there are many who have gone undisturbed, never feeling the sting of an arrow or lead ball now and forever embedded in their bark. There are those who never heard a child's laughter as they wrap their arms around them playing hide-and-seek, and many of these majestic wonders go to eternal sleep, having been blessed with a lifetime of silent growth. As I continue my walk, I see the white birch standing tall, and I reach back in history, seeing the people of the past stripping the bark and making a canoe to get to other places or hunt for waterfowl as the river guides the way.

My love for the trees in the forest and the small animals dwelling within them is a part of who I am. In years past, my grandmother and I walked into the shade of the tree soldiers, away from the noises of life, and sat down on the soft moss, where she told me stories of the land and the respect it deserved. She passed a while ago, but I continued our walks with her memory always within reach. I can still hear her soft voice teaching me the ways of those gone before us as the gentle breezes blow and my tears fall on the soft moss of the forest.

Mike  2024