One thing you'll notice when crossing the border into a new country is that the air feels indescribably different. The scenery tends to look the same, and the houses haven't changed much, but you know that this is a completely different place. In Belgium, nothing illustrated this difference more than the character evident even in the trees. On a hike through the area around the hotel, which was an old castle (although not an ancient one), many trees stood out for their peculiar strength and character. Join me on a short hike as I introduce you to some of the more lively trees in the town of Dinant.
These three immense trees, pictured also in the cover photo, stood in a clearing of their own making. They huddled together like schoolgirls looking over their shoulders, whispering about the boys down the hall. Their bark was soft and spongy, pockmarked with thousands of little holes eating into their delicate bodies, yet still they stood. None of the trees nearby were so tall, or so wide, or so proud. Standing in the center of their circle, I felt tiny - and glad to be welcomed into the circle of the cool kids.
This twisted true grew alone and unique by the side of the trail. Its body covered in grotesque rivulets of bark like melted wax - a candle made into a tree. Her limbs stretched to the sky still, smooth and green, defying age and time all in one swift motion. Her curly branches waved as if to call to Medusa - to call "Here I am! I am like you!" To sit on the lone bench under the candle tree is to enjoy the stopping of time. Nothing else matters in that moment as you listen for life in the distant forest. Pause a moment, catch your breath, and move on before you too become stuck in this place.
Here we find a tree almost completely covered in her modesty. She is cloaked in green and towers over the rest of the forest, a true queen. Her vines cascade down her side in a gown as rich as any the finest empress has ever worn, and she lifts her boughs ever skyward as if to give thanks for each new day. The green things of the forest pay tribute to her, crouched at her feet like supplicants, asking for one more audience with their beloved ruler. She will outlast them all. To spend time in her presence is to truly recognize the beauty inherent in nature, and the power.
And finally, we find the vagabond, the wanderer, the wild child who refuses to stay in one place for too long. He is free and grows where he likes, despite what other may tell him to do. His limbs have been shorn, his flesh has been branded with the initials of countless lovers, and his territory is barren of all other life. He is the rebel, and to spend time with him is to invite your inner child to come out and play - to climb the tree, to jump the rope, and to sing out at the top of your lungs. He is opportunity and hope, and the very spirit of resilience.
Thanks for taking a little hike with me today. To book your own forest adventure, find me at Travel Life Services. In the meantime, drop a pic of your favorite tree in the comments. I'd love to meet your friends.
Happy Travels!
Jennifer
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Animation By @zord189