Tree Story #63: Cast and Reel and Cast Again

tree story #63: Cast and Reel and Cast Again


I love the natural light
hitting the rolls of
the carelessly placed lake
as I cast and reel
and cast again.

And I’m sitting beneath
the netted branches of a tree
as it casts its immense limbs
out against me, reeling
me in closer and I move
ecstatic like a flopping fish
hooked by the natural light.

Kevin Eagan

tree story #62: And Trees Caught Fire

tree story #62: And Trees Caught Fire

Early this morning, the sun came
too near the earth
and trees caught fire.

Midday, broad embers remain,
leaf-shaped,
flame-shaded.
Slowly, they crisp and fall.

Dusk haze rises from the ground
like smoke, unable to
smother the glow.
Even the pond seems to burn.

Fallfleshed, mooncold,
black on black,
the trees conspire
against the distant star.

In the morning,
they blaze again.
Throwing back their light,
they mock the sun.

Brigit Truex

tree story #61: Jack and the Redwood

tree story #61: Jack and the Redwood

"The forest canopies of the earth are realms of unfathomed nature, and they are largely a mystery." - Richard Preston, "Climbing the Redwoods," The New Yorker

Imagine ascending on ropes, not quite
to heaven; to the Canopy Kingdom where toppled crowns
turn to dust, to soil nourishing upstart leaders,
lichens and featherleaf ferns, huckleberry thickets
rooted in rot.

Gird yourself
in harness, Jack, and not for lumber. Climb
the beanstalk that sprouted when Caesar was a child,
its roots vast as an unseen underworld.
All you know is the trunk, more than 20 feet thick
at the base, rising buttressed, to look out
over a forest in coastal cloud.

Pull yourself up as in fairy-
tale to meet, not slay, this giant
tree. Climb out of his deep green shadow
till you see daylight filtering through the highest
branches, 350 feet above the forest floor.

Now, flop down
in the palm of his hand. Pop a huckleberry
into your mouth and give your host
a seedy grin. He holds you
by the roots.

Taylor Graham

New stories arriving!

I'm so thrilled, I've been getting several new stories - actually all poems recently - for my images in the past few days. Just as I was starting to get worried, or thinking that this would be a very limited collaboration... I sent out an SOS to a couple writer friends, who then got the word out to some writing groups & interest has grown - so exciting! (Thanks to JoAnn especially, since the first real submission from someone outside my own influence has come from seeds you have sown.)

So I'm inviting you who are now reading to browse the entries and look for comments to see what has been submitted and watch how this grows. I really need to get back into the darkroom to get this moving along now, and I'll be posting new work as I go. (Probably new contact prints, too, as I can't seem to not take photos of trees.)

It was also brought to my attention that Sacramento is the "City of Trees" so this is a particularly appropriate project here...

Tree Story #12: They Speak of Angels

(slightly fuzzy shot with my cheap digital, but it gives you the idea. ) 

Tree Story #31: Honduran Mist 

Progress!

I'm so thrilled - I actually have printed two tree stories collages in the darkroom, #12 and #31, and I am quite pleased. I actually found a great paper to use as well, Kentmere's Art Classic for all you photo geeks out there. I'm planning on painting one tonight and hopefully the second one tomorrow night. Evenings after the kids get to bed are my painting time. I'm debating whether or not to show final images on the blog here - I sort of like the idea of making viewers show up in April to see the final pieces, but I'm excited to share my work as soon as it's complete, as well. I'll have to wait to see which side wins out...

tree story #60: Quercus Ilex Under the Rain

tree story #60

Quercus Ilex
Under the Rain

Two pale hands
Two feet
into dry earth

This is where I began
if you insist that
I have a beginning

Who knows what made
me climb away from
el centro del mundo
(you see, I can speak
beyond green)

What moved me
towards that
which I couldn't see--

the roses
thick slabs of orange
with cream

Why didn't they
recognize me
like she did

My green imprint
on her hands
She made such a
big deal of it--my
being ever-green

beneath my branches
her words fell

I was something alive--
all her own--
without questions
she asked
sighs falling like
petals in summer

We talked to each other
in different languages
something was understood
something was embraced

we are green and
full of the light

we are a stone path
embroidered in
the sand

we are the
glass between
air and air

In our
Book of America
nothing was obscured
between us
She thought I was innocent

we were the space
between embraces

the space between
los minutos

we were
above, below, beside,
around and beneath
the rain

He told her she wastoo warm to be cold

Can we say now
that we had something
that afternoon
unremarked upon
unrecognized
unqualified
unremarkable

Some moments she
lost meaning,
searched only for
my fallen leaves
in the bark chips

If anyone could smile
like Guanajuato, it
would be her

Words between leaves
I was learning to speak
She was forgetting to run

Some things are just
there or they are not
like the rainbow
it did not learn to
be or grow into
being

and then

but wait

until

next

under



4/28/04
Rebecca Morrison

tree story #59

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tree story #58

tree story #58

Here's another example of what a tree story might look like in the end. You can see the whole creative process behind this image on HGTV's show "That's Clever!" on Oct 27th, noon & 5 p.m. est/pst.  

Just to give you an idea, here's what a final tree story piece might look like. This is from the image for tree story #23. 

Every tree tells a story

Every tree has a story. Somehow the tree was planted, maybe seed was blown by the wind, carried by a bird, sown by a gardener, maybe it's an offshoot of another tree. Conditions were right for this particular tree - others seedlings may have been eaten, pulled up or died from lack of water, but this special seedling managed to survive.

Time passed and the tree grew, maybe many years passed, hundreds even and the tree is a local legend. This tree has seen many seasons: summers of drought and clouds, followed by a falls of fire or rain, bitter and mild winters, floods and warmth of springs. Maybe only a few years have gone by and the seedling has grown only to the size of a large bush.

Soemthing has happened where the tree grows, it's seen human dramas, roads and buildings have come, the tree even became host to some child's fort of dreams. Children have imagined great things here, picnickers have dozed in its shade, lovers have hidden under its arching canopy. Perhaps a gardener has tended it carefully and planted a whole garden to compliment it. Shy animals have come cautiously to the tree, brought their young and gone again, unseen by human eyes. Migrating birds have rested here en route to far off destinations.

The tree stands as a sentinel, guarding a gateway, a witness to history, a memorial to someone loved and lost. The tree provides shelter to some, nutrition to others - perhaps was once part of a long forgotten orchard - it provides fodder for fires and for our imaginations.

Look at this tree, growing strong in all its glory, or past its bloom, it's nearly ready to fall. Listen to the tree, to the birds in its branches, to the wind whistling through the leaves, to the rain as it falls. Listen to the story this tree has to tell.

Spammers are scum

Now I've gotten all 57 of the initial images for Tree Stories uploaded and ready for your comments. I'm sorry but I've had to put some securities on comments because I was instantly assaulted by spam comments, if you can imagine such a thing. I had no idea. It took me over an hour of work to clean up all the crap, but now it's done and I just want to go on record as saying that indeed, spammers are scum, plain and simple.

So now that I've gotten that out of my system, I hope to start seeing some real comments in the not-too-distant future. I'll continue to post, including some more finished versions of these images, and likely new images as well.

For those of you thinking that April is a very long time from now, it is just over six months hence, which in terms of darkroom, painting, matting and framing time is just enough time to get it all done. Please don't delay in getting stories to me. Thanks so much.

tree story #57

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tree story #56

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tree story #55

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tree story #54

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tree story #53

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tree story #52

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