Friday Feature: 10/10/25

Beneath the Boughs of Trees

What is it to lie beneath the boughs of trees? It is to feel anchored, grounded, yet somehow buoyed by the wind moving through the leaves. Their towering forms rise above me, yet I remain, unafraid. I do not feel fear, I do not feel terror. I feel safety, an elysian presence I cannot name.

Sunlight filters through dark interwoven branches, painting luminous, shifting patterns across my face. Earthy scents of moss and soil weave around me. Leaves rustle, water trickles down glistening bark, in this shadowy woodland space, gleaming with life.

It is to lie under a life that began long before mine, and will continue long after. These trees, scarred and rough, sway gracefully as if conducted by an invisible orchestra, in silent harmony with the world. They have endured storms, droughts and human interference. They show us that resilience lies in bending rather than breaking, in growth, not resistance.

They show us that in nature, beauty and hardship are inextricable: shadow and light, storm and calm, restless growth and tranquil stillness. Even in the depths of decay, life hums quietly. Renewal is always possible, if only we are attentive enough to hear what nature tells us.

I wonder whether future generations will see what I see today, as climate change and environmental crises reshape the world. Yet in this moment, under these magical, lingering canopies, I feel a belonging, a profound connection to these ancient specimens, and to the earth itself.

The trees shape the air I breathe and the ground upon which I walk. Their presence is stoic, yet bounding with life. In their roots, I feel stability, in their leaves, renewal, in their decay, regeneration. Every crack and gnarled branch recites a tale of struggles endured, and strength gained.

Lying beneath them, I am reminded of the lessons we forgot somewhere along the way. That resilience comes from balance. That hardship and joy are inseparable. That life thrives without interference. The trees do not demand meaning; they simply are: flourishing through time, waiting for us to notice them - just as they are. No less, no more. The wind rustles, darkness and light dance together. I am both witness and participant in this quiet, divine symphony, surrounded by the boughs and by the wisdom they have offered for centuries.

From the Press:

Ingrid Brown's Beneath the Boughs of Trees is a quiet testament to how deeply human it is to recognize the beauty and necessity of the natural world around us. Her language carries both stillness and reverence, allowing the forest to speak rather than being spoken for.

What stands out most is Brown's capacity for observation and her willingness to look long enough to see what most of us pass by. She captures the duality of nature with precision: its serenity and its storms, its decay and renewal. Through this, she reminds us that resilience is not resistance but harmony—that growth requires balance between surrender and endurance.

In a time when disconnection from the natural world feels nearly inevitable, Brown's poem feels like an act of restoration. To lie beneath the boughs, as she does, is to remember that beauty and survival have always been intertwined—and that perhaps our greatest strength is simply learning to notice again.

About the Author:

Ingrid Brown is a UK-based artist and writer whose work explores the polarities and rhythms of the natural world, akin to the human experience. Ingrid focuses on presence and quiet moments, blending observation and abstract reflection to invite a deeper connection to the world and to the self.