Ponderosa Pine

A short poem about how the forest shaped me into who I am today.

Sarah Telloian
October 1, 2019
[email protected]

The Great Ponderosa Pine Forest

The Ponderosa Pine forests gave birth to my soul.

The sound of the banjo and the crackle of the fire welcomed me into this world.

The deep red and brown of the tree stained my hair and branded me as a daughter of the woods.

When I walked, it cushioned my feet with a damp pine needle bed.

And when I ran, the rocks and roots reached up to trick me and test me.

The forest carved my soul out of white and black flecks of granite.

It’s colors peppered my skin.

As with granite, sometimes my soul crumbled and sent me sliding down the boulder of life, scraping my side red as I went.

Mostly, my soul became as unmovable as the rock that built the mountain.

Wild things live in the forest and wild things watched over me.

The Black as midnight crow sent his deep hollow caw through the air to tell me he sees me.

The deer stopped their chewing to catch my eye. It did not bound away, but stood still for just a moment before it made up its mind that I was just like him and continued to graze again.

Every winter, the snow slowed me and kept me close to home, close to where the warm fire glowed and the people sang.

Snowballs and snowmen and snow forts and snow hikes gave me a thrill for the cold.

Every spring, the snow teased me with patient excitement for the thaw. Spring decided whether to save or end the ancient cabins hidden in the forest. Most years the snow was merciful. One year the snow gave me a warning that it ruled over the land and sent a fallen tree to the roof of my cabin. 

[Spring made] low creeks became bursting with icy runoff water, begging for me to swim but warning me of the power of the water.

Summer wind fell seeds that whipped around and around like in playful  game with the other swirling seeds. Sap warned me that not everything is as sweet as it looks. 

In late summer, the water slowed and became low enough for me to run with wild and free spirit over the rocks and along the creek. The creek gave me sure feet to find my next step and to trust the path that the creek had given. 

Though I was born in the great trees, covered in the great Earth smell and barely beginning much like the spring thaw, I have gone to many new lands, many busy lands, and many changing lands since.

But when I get to go back to that wonderful place I was born, and step into the shaded damp woods, and smell the deep pine and hear the great midnight black crow caw with haunting echoes, I close my eyes. I feel the cool air bring goose pimples to my skin. I listen for the roar of the creek hidden behind the trees. I imagine the clear path that will take me on my journey through these patient, enduring and loving woods. 

And when I open my eyes, I no longer look down at my feet, but I look up 

to the top, to the top, to the top

of the great Ponderosa Pine forest that gave me life.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I think you are better at the craft than you imagine. This is a beautiful character sketch, full of rich imagery that makes the woods come alive.

[stelloian]

Those are very kind words. Thank you.