darkearthsuggestions:

the woods are sprung with new and new– budding, searching, unfurling discovery with every thawing year– but the woods are old, and old and even saplings spout from last year’s dead. learn to read the tree rings, listen to the leaves; brush your hand over wizened barks, and feel secrets drop into your heart. remember that you walk over countless unmarked graves, that every acorn once was an oak, that though the forest is filled with new, something old sleeps within.