The Grandmother Tree is just my name for her...I don't know if anyone else calls her by that name.
I don't know what made her trunk so gnarled and twisty.
So fantastical...
...and so beautiful.
Fertile ground for an imagination like mine.
When I look at her, I am reminded of Tolkien's Ents, a race of trees that could walk and talk. I've never seen her walk, but I've heard her talk...on quiet summer afternoons, on bright autumn days, in rain storms and snow storms, on days filled with the hopefulness of spring.
I took these photos in 2007, with a little Olympus camera. The Grandmother Tree is still there, and she still looks much the same.
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