This is one of my favorite photographs, even though from a technical perspective, it sucks. This is a slender slice of one of the wood beams that now (yay!) anchors my new central heating system.
Look at the rings of sap between the harder rings of wood. What a marvelous record of the years this magnificent little tree lived! It was just a child when it was harvested, but the beauty of its tender life is preserved in this view.
I think about trees all the time. I have always loved being among trees. One of my earliest memories, from over a half century ago, is walking with my Canadien grandmother down a street near her home in Pontiac, Michigan, as she pointed out the maples, oaks, elms, aspen, birch, and other deciduous trees of the upper Midwest to me.
There is no smell to a native like the smell of a deciduous forest outside your window when you are going to sleep. Sometimes when I have traveled, I have had the pleasure of sleeping in a room with an open window in the upper Midwest -- I remember one particular night in Minneapolis years ago where nostalgia from my Michigan roots swept in from the trees outside to comfort me as no other odor ever could have done.
Out here, we are introducing our Japanese buddy to the fine art of pumping gas. Today, for the very first time (!) she filled up the gastank of my little car.
Job well done.
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