Coveting Tree Mind.

I woke this morning to find the Shire shrouded in a heavy, suffocating mist. No panoramic vistas across the valley to the high hills beyond, but only the vaporous half tones of silent, skeletal trees standing still and ghost-like a few short strides down the lea. The clammy air about them was suffused with a sense of patiently waiting for winter’s soporific presence to pass and allow them another rebirth. And so, I thought, must we all.

Tonight my mind afforded me a rare experience: a sense that something vibrant and exciting was about to happen. More commonly it gives me the opposite: a sense that something frightful and damaging is imminent. Rarely does either extreme become manifest.

The human mind is a restless, capricious faculty, isn’t it? I suppose it’s all to do with the need to peer into an invisible future in the hope of preparing for contrasting possibilities. I sometimes envy the tree’s ability to live in the now and nowhere else.