I’ve read enough anthropology and history to know that just being exposed to nature does not automatically create what we would call “nice” people. Our species can be bloodthirsty, cruel, and capricious under any circumstances.
In my own life, getting into open meadows or woodland a few times a week does help me feel more civilized. I get nervous and aggressive when buffeted by technology new and old, when taxing my brain to deal with complex social interactions.
A tree is an automatic relaxing metaphor. Standing tall, strong, striving, quiet. Or even broken, toppled, or decaying. I learn a new lesson each time I stroll by.
Besides, trees are good for me. They clean the air and can be used in all kinds of ways. Mostly, though, I prefer to leave them as they are, to think unusual thoughts, to meditate. And to go beyond meditation to the simple accepting joy of being who I am, one with the biologic components of this planet’s ecology.
We are blessed around here by having lots of trees, at private houses, in parks, self-propagating relentlessly. Perhaps I would have similar encounters if I lived in grasslands, but I strive to live where I actually am.
Right now I’m glad to be near trees.
HuntingtonHarborThoughts 