Front Porch Rambles

The tree grew in unlikely soil, more stone than dirt.  In its growth it had cast aside boulders as if throwing off a heavy quilt after a deep sleep.  They lay solidly, looking at once unmovable and like so much litter cast idly to the side.  The rapid expansion towards the sun had left deep splits in the weathered gray bark.  A mans finger would fit to the second knuckle in the deepest furrows, and ants busily traveled up and down the shadowed path.  Overhead, some manner of tiny beast was chittering a rhythm backup to the rustle and low creaks of timber in a breeze.  The main trunk was relatively narrow, just wide enough to hold in embrace were one so inclined.  Two meters off the ground the tree split suddenly in graceful counterpoint.  One division immediately forked again, parting in a stretching yawn. The other frayed as it rose, an untended braid unraveling into the sky.  Thousands of thin dark lines sprouted from the trees arms. A few ...