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Reddened Fingers in the Cold

It has been snowing quite a bit here in Michigan for November; it almost feels more like the day after Christmas than the day after Thanksgiving.  As can probably be expected, people tend to spend more time indoors when it is cold, especially when snow is involved.  This inevitably results in the congregation of people, with families to their houses, students to their classrooms or commons, and so on.  When people get together, they tend to talk.  It is a great opportunity to share stories.

Storytelling while waiting out the cold months is not an uncommon tradition in the least.  The stories sacred to the Ojibwe are told specifically during the wintertime, for example.  There are many places these stories can come from: family, friends, your culture, or even other cultures.

Sometimes I have wondered if non-human peoples tell stories too, wondered what it might be like to hear a deer story rather than a story about a deer.  Would it be any more or less interesting than a human-made story?  What if the trees could tell stories?

Imposing Bare Silhouette

On that last question, I decided to try something.  I very much enjoy spending time with trees, so it did not seem like too much of a chore to see if one might tell me a story.  It is difficult to say if these are just stories I myself came up with while being with trees or if the stories were indeed given to me by the tree then told in human words, but the difference does not really matter that much to me.

And so I will be blogging the stories from trees every now and then.  We shall see where this goes.

Misted Trees, Orange Leaves