Page 68 - To know things we have to have the world inside us

“You see my Banyan tree is of an age,
similar to mine, and her stories will be
rich and full of wonder and delight,
pain and grief, happiness and joy,
because she, unlike me, is bare to the
world, an offering with no limits.”
“She does seem to me embittered and
disappointed, indicated by her hidden
lethal thorns.”

“Her mood changes in the weather.
On still sunny days she too shines, so tall
you cannot see the top reach the sky,
impressive, welcoming the day. On cold,
dank days she hangs, short and somewhat
dumpy. Hunched and introverted.
Not as tall somehow.”
“It starts to resemble the character of
an old, old woman……. misshapen
and bent, stringy and arthritic and a
little crazy in the head.”
“I think maybe she is not a sister, rather a mother and her outstretched bowers
are an invitation. An invitation that’s says, "come, climb upon my knee, swing
from my arms, lean on my trunk, shelter under my giant canopy."

“Strange distorted face shapes and puckered lips loom out at me from
her trunk. Her bole curves in to a nipped in waist and then spreads out
again into bustley hips.

The lichen attached to her arms almost looks like popcorn or the ruffled
lace of Miss Havisham’s musty wedding gown.”

Trees now became subjects, identities given: “my tree” rather than ‘”the tree”, “you” rather than “it”….

The influence of tree on the person was described as a relationship. Identities were given…“like me”, “sister”,
“friends”. Personalities developed...

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