One hundred years old and climbing

My eyes meader along the grass path which runs in a higgeldy piggeldy fashion towards the one hundred year old beech tree.

This majestic tree commands the sweeping fields beyond it.

Long arching branches bow low in the soft breeze sweeping the tender freshly cut grass. The air around it tingles with expectancy.

Stretching skywards the tip of the tree appears to brush heavens floor.

It’s extravagant size suggests it has regal dealings of a celestial nature.  Fluffy clouds perch on its top, lingering like surreal angels seeking a brief respite from their work.

Truth is this chameleon is hiding an earthly significance. It serves to remind us of natures calendar as it announces the season by the coat it wears.

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