I sit down on a lawn that is damp and cool. A chill flows to my feet and legs. I am cramped up with yearning. The light lays a hand on the bending limbs of several trees that appear connected. I turn my head and they separate. My eyes wrap in the complex entertwined growth. I forget for a moment about wanting and suddenly just am. Sun blows through channels of brush and gushing forest green. It surges toward me and around me like a giant, warm, comforting hand. The sound of a stream giggles with bubbles of life. It is all laughable. Not a joke. Yet all a playful game. If I win I just want to play again or play a different game. I knew this a long time ago. Then I forgot. I probably will again. For now, I simply enjoy the smell of leaves falling on the misty, wet landscape and try not to think.
“Slowly Growing” is acrylic on Tyvek paper 24″×36″ and is part of a series of Seattle landscapes from photos I have taken of gardens around Issaquah, Washington.