Ghost Trees

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On my drive to work before dawn, my eyes are drawn to the black treetops on the hillsides in silhouette against the gray-indigo sky. Threatening the bright, defined boxes of car and house windows, signs, and the automobiles themselves (crowded together on the highway like packages trapped on a stalled conveyor belt), these trees branch upward, sprawling, uncontrolled, and as open as an unanswered question. They are black holes on earth, hauling up and smashing light, smashing my thoughts, smahing time, until, at the edge of the singularity for a moment, I find myself in a wide open black field at night, before cars, before electric lights, before the dawn.

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One thought on “Ghost Trees

  1. Lovely.

    I’m always taken by the early sunsets of this time of year, with the trees and hills on the west side of the freeway blacked out against the orange sky. I think some day I’m going to make a quilt using black velvet and orange silk.

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