Taken on the same day as Passing Rain, Flattening Wind, this lone tree was found near the start of the Glacial Park trails, distant from the forest and the kames. I don’t remember other points outside the forest where a single tree stood in such seclusion; where the prairie was broken elsewhere, it was by clustered trees or trails.
I was drawn to the resilience conveyed by growing and surviving without the forest’s shelter, and waited for a break in the clouds and a wind-free moment. Apparently too much to ask in the heart of autumn.
While waiting, my concentration rested on vibrant red creeping through this tree’s leaves, how its branches accepted and released wind in mirror likeness to trees distant. Streaks of sunlight fell on this tree, throughout the prairie, and upon myself, warming all, causing an irresistible craving for warmth afterward. When I finally took this photo, I knew the cliché qualities that intrigued me wouldn’t take part in the final interpretation. Instead, I saw a strength woven through the core being of each tree in sight, and a tenacity for life that allows home to be found wherever there is ground and sky.
Despite removal from its brethren, this tree shared air and water of the world, ground churned through countless cycling of feast and decay, a sun that made life possible in the first place. What meaning could standing apart from the forest, other plants of the world, or different species hold when we live through the other’s exhale, when we rise at the other’s provided nourishment, when we all know Earth as home?
Minolta Maxxum 7
Minolta AF 28mm f/2.8
Kodak Portra – ISO 160