Paintings of Trees by Adam Cope
Here’s a selection of my some of my favourite love-songs to trees 🙂
As I age
in the world it will rise and spread,
and be for this place horizon
and orison, the voice of its winds.
I have made myself a dream to dream
of its rising, that has gentled my nights.
Let me desire and wish well the life
these trees may live when I
no longer rise in the mornings
to be pleased with the green of them
shining, and their shadows on the ground,
and the sound of the wind in them.
– Wendell Berry, ‘Planting Trees’
The best time to plant a tree was always 20 years ago. The second best time is always today. – Chinese Proverb
Gandhi said something that went like “A giant tree coming crashing down makes a catastrophic sound but the sprouting of a new forest from a million acorns makes no sound at all.”
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the Eyes of others only a Green thing that stands in the way. Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and by these I shall not regulate my proportions; and some scarce see Nature at all. But to the Eyes of the Man of Imagination, Nature is Imagination itself. – William Blake
Forests keep disappearing, rivers dry up, wild life’s become extinct, the climate’s ruined and the land grows poorer and uglier every day. – Anton Chekhov
We cannot win this battle to save species and environments without forging an emotional bond between ourselves and nature — for we will not fight to save what we do not love. – Stephen J. Gould
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
– Joyce Kilmer, 1886-1918, ‘Trees’
O if we only knew what we do
When we delve or hew –
Hack or rack the growing green!
– Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘Binsey Poplars’, 1879
And the forest
what does it think?
Keeps no edge, no beginning –
deep in its mistletoe beard
when all’s said and done
the summer leaves drop
the trunks and makes foam
where we stand will be forest
our differences forest
love will be forest
after we’ve gone
we shall be litter and leaves
– a lyrebird’s song
Harry Laing , ‘Forest Meditations’