I call the hilltop that I took these pictures from The Tree Cemetary. Once upon a time it was a thick, lush green slope that was a favorite bedding spot for deer and elk. I'm not sure if it was lightning or artillery fired during a military training exercise that set the hill on fire, but it burned to the ground and years later the charred and bleached skeletons still beckon eerily towards the sky.
One can't help but walk in silence through the pinons and junipers. The only thing growing are weeds on the ground. New trees and brush dare not cross the invisible line onto the scarred earth, stopping right on the edge to pay their silent homage. Even the animals avoid this area. I spent almost an hour there on the ridge and the only creatures that ventured near were crows. I couldn't help but notice that other burned areas have long since regrown, but this particular hill remains a scorched ruin. I could almost swear that I heard the soft, mournful sigh of a hundred trees as they reached for the wind that blew gently through their bare branches.
Edited 11/02/05: Sorry but all the typos were really bugging me.
7 comments:
Isn't it strange how the mind works?.. that something you see or hear triggers something inside of you and then you write something and look at it and wonder where it came from.." was that me writing that?".. what you wrote here today reminded me of that... and a time something came out of me that i never expected.. thank you, I think i will use that for my journal entry today!
as always.. you have a great eye for photography!
You captured this! Nice job.
Tess
I love tree photos. The first one is quite eerie, but nice! Nice, 'cause I love tree photos. :)
Blessings!~
Susan
http://journals.aol.com/rjet33/CountryLivingSouthernStyle/
I love the first photo. Your photos are always sooo great. You really have an eye for photography.
awwwwwwwwwwwww man.......wouldn't it be nice if someone would go til the ground, plant some more trees and bless the earth??? I love trees and this is soooo sad.
carlene
As always beautiful photo's. On my first visit to my real dad's in CA, we went for a motorcycle ride, and he had taken me to a valley that had the same consequence as you pictures. How sad of a feeling it is..
when i was a child i wanted to be a photographer for a wildlife magazine like national geographic. funny how our passions change. beccas macabre pictures scare me. i like your journal.
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