It turns out that keeping company with 300 year old Oak Trees is good medicine.
Something about the grandeur, and the quietness, and the solid grounded feelings that they emote.
How many lives have passed this way?
How many storms?
How much sunshine and moonshine and happy voices and sad voices?
All the while the tree silently grows stronger and wider and taller,
keeping its secrets.
Do they talk among themselves, the trees? Like the whales?
I wonder what they say?
What could be on a tree's mind?
I wonder!
Live oak, one of many beautiful trees in St. Augustine.