the things you look at change.
Seven years have passed since a visit to North Judson, Indiana, yet the images of the trees there are as neatly planted in my memories as they are in the ground.
No signs revealed the history of the area. The cabin rental owner didn’t know. I couldn’t find an explanation why the pine trees grew in such an orderly fashion.
Probably a long gone paper mill or a defunct Christmas tree farm, I may never know. Whatever the previous purpose, the trees still stand in their dutiful rows.
But that’s the thing — you don’t see the rows unless you stand at a certain angle. From the cabin’s front porch, the woods look like any other, but move to the road and the trees are single file. Walk within the forest and the randomness isn’t as clear. Look up and see a protective canopy, a circle of shelter, softened with kitten whisker needles.
What’s your perspective today? 😊