By Barbara Janelle

Species Link, Issue 37, Winter, January-March 2000

I sat on our cottage steps in the Maine woods, watching, listening and being in a world of movement and sound and light.

Trees talk

They speak to the wind

and grow silent

hearing the loon’s

slow call.

A crack across the pond

momentarily jars

the forest.

The wind speaks again

touching the tops with vehemence

and the underbrush

in a whisper.

“Do you see the colours

the wind and light


Our trunks, one moment

red and glowing.

Clouds pass.

The wind brings news and

the red is now yellow.

How do we share with your mind

the symphony?

Almost impossible. . .

You must use all of you

to participate

in the forest dance.”




On another day, the trees said:

“We are




We have spoken through your poets

for all of human existence.”