Bristlecone Pine

When I took the photograph of this old Bristlecone Pine, one of my favorite poems came to mind.   

Good Timber 

The tree that never had to fight

For sun and sky and air and light,

That stood out in the open plain

And always got its share of rain…

Never became a forest King.

But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil,

In facing challenge did recoil,

Who never had to win his share

Of sun and sky and light and air…

Never became a manly man,

But lived and died as he began. 

Good Timber does not grow with ease.

The stronger wind, the stronger trees.

The farther sky the greater length,

The more the storm, the more the strength.

By sun and cold, by rain and snows,

In tree or man, good timber grows. 

Where thickest stands the forest growth

We find the patriarchs of  both…

And they hold the converse with the stars

Whose broken branches show the scars

Of many winds and much strife…

This is the common law of life.

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Author Unknown