Oak in fieldWe pass the farm fields, spreading in all directions, filling the space between various small villages, as we travel longer distances, out from our own small town.
This season’s harvest now past, hidden homes appear where acres of tall, dense corn touched the blue of the horizon.
My favorite marker of these places we pass, the trees, standing apart from it all.
Rooted here for years, as these fields, each time,
have turned from green...
to gold...
to brown.
Perhaps spared the axe or saw in order to shade the workers here, man or beast. Or grown from a seed, fallen in the pile of rocks cleared from the earth before planting.
In any case, they reign--
magnificent markers in a resting landscape.
Two TreesView more ABC Wednesdays here!
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22 comments:
Dear Nina,
Beautiful post.
The trees do mark the passage of time.
I am keeping you and yours in my thoughts.
Sherry
Thank you, Sherry.
Taking a day to feed my soul--visiting blogs, getting outside a bit, and finding so much is still there.
Beautiful trees. ...I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree...so true!
I wonder why some trees are left when the farmers cut the rest for pasture. I do see cows sitting under trees during the hot days of summer so that might be why.
Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I gave your blog the Butterfly Award--not sure if you had gotten one already.
I love how you put the pictures in black and white. It causes you to really look at the outline and beauty of the branches.
Kallen305--I've always admired the work of Ansel Adams, his simple, yet lovely images in B&W, allowing form to not be lost in color.
These trees, especially, against barren fields, show such shapely branches not seen beneath leaves of summer.
The beauty of a fall field.
We come and we go - but the great trees remain. If we let them...
Trees have so much significance to me. They remain long before and long after we pass by.
I am so sorry to hear of the loss of your mother, Nina. She, and you will be in my prayers.
I heard that they farmers leave the solitary tree out in the field as an alternative to themselves or their tractor should they be caught out in a thunderstorm. Shade for the cows is another good protective use, I suppose also!
Beautiful post!
I love seeing old trees out in a field like this. You have a lovely blog Nina. Looking forward to meeting you in WV. :c)
I must take Wilma out right now. this has inspired me.
Dxx
Trees always look so lonely this time of year. Makes you want to befriend them even more.
My first time on ABC. With no Linky, you can find me here.
I love the old trees like this.
Beautiful. I have a favorite solitary tree that I photograph over and over again.
Last March tornadoes passed through here and went along the route that would take them past that tree. As soon as we were able to get out and see the damage, I wanted to drive out to see the tree. The tornado had passed on the other side of the road.
The tree still stood, completely undamaged.
You've captured a lovely sentiment here. As gardeners, many of us prefer the lush, growing season when plants and trees are in full flower.
When winter arrives, we have to re-train our eyes to see the beauty in the bare trees, the spare winter silhouettes and monochrome colors and textures of winter.
I call our cypress the "giants" of our swamp in the same way the old oaks are the "giants" of the farm field.
My ABC Wednesday post is also about a certain TREE.
Bear((( )))
Lovely. The B&W photos seem to tell a story all their own. your post reminds me of the Amish workers who were replacing my neighbors roof. At lunch time they sat under my two huge maples in my front lawn. I live in the city so it seemed a bit surreal.
Beautiful photos. I love winter trees pictured in black and white.
And on behalf of the ABC team, thank you for your participation this week.
Oh my gosh, I LOVE trees, I was just out the other evening at sunset photographing bare trees against the sky. I think I am going to put them as my next post. I love this. We are kindred spirits. Such beauty here...all because of how you see the wild....no, not HOW you see it but simply....BECAUSE you see it.
Hugs,
Robin :)
Beautiful trees, lovely words. Old oak trees inspire the poet and artist in us I think.
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