While wandering the seemingly endless juniper forests of east-central Arizona, I was captivated by the infinite variety of lines on the trunks of these trees. Their uniqueness was often hidden beneath the covering of branches and leaves.
In a forest of seeming sameness, each tree bore its own mark, not seen in its neighbors.
Technically difficult to isolate because of all the branches overlaying it, each trunk expressed a dance of line that was infinitely delightful.
Walking on sandy soil through the seeming sameness of tan and dark green, I had to stop to experience the beauty of each trunk. It was not readily apparent. Each tree was its own small meditation. They reminded me how beautifully the randomness of nature is organized.
I was reassured somehow of my place in this world. Despite all my attempts to organized myself and my life into a predictable state, I realized I too was held together by the same seemingly random organization of nature, not much different than these juniper trees.
The time wandering among these cedars was not a long time. Yet having gotten still enough to see what was before me, it remained with me in a profound manner. So much so, that returning to the angular lines of my vehicle was subtly jarring.
There is a litheness about the movement of these lines on the trunks of these junipers. Each one has its own dance. I wish I could move so beautifully.
The entire series can be seen here.