reach upward; there
is something about
their form that reminds
me of the beauty of a
woman’s body.
At this time of year the
leaves are golden,
and the late sunlight
coming through a forest
of aspens turns golden
as it passes through the
canopy. A soft breeze
was blowing, and the
yellow leaves were
fluttering gently down
all around me, falling
softly like flower petals. It
felt like some heavenly
benediction. Tall
evergreens—spruces—
were scattered in the
grove of aspens, and
the golden leaves
caught on their green
boughs and made
them look like they were
decked out for some
holiday—like there was
a grand party in the
forest the night before.
Here among hundreds
of living pillars of white
crowned with gold, I
understand why the
Celts believed in the
sacred groves. Just to
D
Solutions 19