General

The branches reach their limbs across the spring sky, clouds passing as ships above. They appear is if brought into our world by oils upon canvas, by an artist who knows there is both beauty and order in chaos. For they reach this way and that, the buds now open, gifting their new foliage to the community. They are not straight, nor curved, yet organic and each supporting perfect blossom amid the green. I think of them as arms rather than branches, and perhaps that's why I love them so, the trees, deeply rooted and stretching upward, drinking in both sunshine and rain in equal measure.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), May 1, 2018.
General

There was Ada in a tree branch, denim limbs dangling over the limb of sliver-earthen bark. She dangled independent of the wind, with a smile to match the brilliance of the sun above. She was tracing her fingers over the bark, her fingerprint over the ridged patterns. Something about being there made her so happy, as if it were a sort of freedom lot let her body match its curving form.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), May 1, 2018.
General

Even under silver cloud the tree branches were all the hues of brown I adored. There was everything from sweet caramel to mocha playing in the armour that is is its bark. To the touch there is a warmth that is so lacking in the cold concrete paths. I think perhaps there is other nature as lovely as a tree, yet none lovelier.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), May 1, 2018.
General

The branches are dappled with lichen, as varied as any proud grey horse. In this summer light it is the palest green upon the weathered bark, in the monochrome of evening it is as light freckles upon rich brown skin. There is something about the tree that draws me into the park, some echo of childhood perhaps, or the way I can simply be myself in its company.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), May 1, 2018.
General

Branches reach out as a hand to the sky, as beautiful as any new flower. They radiate as well as any spokes of a wheel, turning in time with Earth. I see Jasmin scramble up within them, to simply sit in its great arms and be held. She would climb up as high as she could until she felt as if she were a bird, free in the sky, dancing because she could.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), May 1, 2018.