Pines. Falling in love with a tree species.

I visited a privately owned island once.  In a sea of other islands, some smaller, some larger, this one sat a little higher, a little rounder. The water gently lapping at the feet of the huge granite slabs and boulders circling the island and opening the way to other massive boulders, moss covered and lush, with pines of every size and shape imaginable. Some naturally bonsaied.

The island floor generously carpeted with blueberries and lingonberries, I felt my breathing stop a few times as I tried to process the sheer extravagance of the raw beauty. A couple of black painted structures nestling in amongst the moss covered boulders with huge glass doors, reflecting the beauty in the sunlight.

Torn between trying to capture the essence of it for later comfort even as the ineffability of that essence stopped me from taking a decent photo. A moment of awareness, of pure joy, stillness, comprehension and timelessness.


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