Upon the leaves of evergreens, radiating in fine plume, was a pillow of white. It was as if when winter came, mother nature had tucked each one in with the finest eider-down.
That evergreen forest was the grass of the heavens, standing strong, weathering seasons as if each were but a sunny afternoon.
How quickly the rains would wash fertile soils to naked rock were it not for the evergreen giants of the hillsides.
If chains saws were once the fate of the evergreen, the new fate is so very different. We saw the chain of nature that we are in with them, that we make this world together as part of the flora and fauna. So as we use our brains and voices for their protection, they make the oxygen we need to do so.
The evergreens are every Christmas card, and perhaps in days past they would have been felled to make such trinkets, no longer. Today they are revered as the marvels of the living world that they are, a gift of God to creation and sacred in their own right.
Here among the evergreens in this kingdom of root and branch, there is the tranquility of nature and a sense of natural clocks at peace with time.
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