Well, being the unlettered man of toil I pretend to be, I don’t have much to right to an opinion in some things but, I must say, what a gnarly old hag of an arboreal specimen I have before me.
Scarred, beaten, majestic.
Beautiful.
This and trees like it are the kind of trees that make me poetic and wistful. They look old and storied. Maybe a tree from the dawn, a seedling at some pre history faerie wedding or Druid ritual. One can imagine the lost bones of a warrior brave hidden in the hollow trunk. Or a child sacrifice to the elder gods.
I picked it up from Cosette at the Multi-Club picnic and auction back in October 2016. I’ve been waiting until now to work on it.
First step, weeding.
That’s better.
It’s been a long many months with me just looking, studying, sizing up the angles…
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