December 16, 2002
Most people like trees best in spring and summer, or in fall. I’ve never met anyone who likes them best in winter like I do. I don’t know exactly why, maybe it’s their silhouette against the blue sky. Maybe it’s their complex tangles of thin branches, or perhaps I like that they always seem as cold and detached as I seem. I like that they sway in the wind and creak when they bend. I like that they are just there, always listening as I spill out my troubles. Its comforting, the cold bark of a tree under your fingers.