These adorable, tiny Western Hemlock tree pine cones, hundreds, thousands, collect in piles and over the years become duff on the forest floor: a thick, cushiony carpet, quality dirt on a trail where you must remove your shoes and walk barefoot, because it feels so good and so soft, smelling the dirt, a rest from rocks and roots. It’s strange how they transform into something so unrecognizable.
Ponderosa Pine: Into the Void
These are Ponderosa Pine tree needles that were burned in a fire. They hang like delicate icicles of ash, Christmas ornaments on otherwise bare branches. They are a ghostly silvery gray, somehow half dead and half alive, looking like they would crumble if touched, but they are in fact, intact, needles. They are long to protect the tree. When fire comes, the tips of the needles catch fire and slowly burn down the needle like a candle, delaying, reducing and weakening the flame by the time it reaches the tree. This way, the tree is burned, but not destroyed.
When fire comes into your life and burns something away, Ponderosa Pine is an ally to protect you from being devoured as the forest burns all around you. You feel like you're on fire. You can hear the crackling. You wear a coat of ashes as you recover. Grief sends you into the void of darkness, feeling the absence of that which was lost and burned away. From this void, fertilized, new things grow. You are burned, but not destroyed.
Ponderosa Pine: The Space Between Things
The Ponderosa Pine tree has thick layers of these bark chips. They snap off easily and accumulate in piles on the ground. They protect the tree. When fire comes, the pieces catch fire and break off, helping the tree to not be consumed by flames. Breaking apart, space created, jettison to save the ship. When fire comes into your life to burn something away, this tree is an ally to protect you. Pieces of you may be lost, piles of parts of you no longer, but your core will remain intact. Distance is not death, it is the space between things, it is protection.
