I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ~Henry David Thoreau
And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. ~William Shakespeare
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. ~Hermann Hesse
Ever since I was a child, I have had this curious habit of talking to trees. I find myself touching their trunks in passing, sitting at their roots to rest, and saying silent hellos...exchanging elements of air well-grounded in earth. I have always loved their company.
I don't know when they started talking back... Perhaps they were always talking, and I simply didn't hear or perhaps it took a while for me to extend the bounds of culturally-sanctioned sanity. I don't know, but somehow it happened, and now, from time to time, I find myself deep in conversation with trees.