Poplars | East Wenatchee, WA | 2010

I’ve a recurring dream of heavily-leafed poplars undulating in a warm wind. Foliage swirls, spreads, inhales, curls to a close, expands again. Like a grand undersea creature surrendering to its universe’s flow. Now I regularly pause in real life to read the sign language of trees. Wisdom, I think, is in their sway.