I’d like to write that the bark that I see strewn about the bases of so many trees in Golden Gate Park recently look as if they have dropped away gently because they were no longer needed. Instead, I would be more honest if I said that they seem to have fallen away out of exhaustion.
I know from my own experience that it is absolutely exhausting to feel it necessary to protect what lies beneath the surface, and I would imagine the same would go for all of those trees. The bark, though still beautiful in those reds, tans and browns, look tired and parched, even after the sun shines on them after a good rain or fog. Perhaps they could have done nothing else, sacrificed by the rest of the tree.
I feel a little badly that I have the luxury of writing about their worn appearance when they do not seem to have the same right or ability to write about mine. I suppose that it's better done, however it is, than to pretend it does not exist.
I know from my own experience that it is absolutely exhausting to feel it necessary to protect what lies beneath the surface, and I would imagine the same would go for all of those trees. The bark, though still beautiful in those reds, tans and browns, look tired and parched, even after the sun shines on them after a good rain or fog. Perhaps they could have done nothing else, sacrificed by the rest of the tree.
I feel a little badly that I have the luxury of writing about their worn appearance when they do not seem to have the same right or ability to write about mine. I suppose that it's better done, however it is, than to pretend it does not exist.
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