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82_28 wrote:JackRiddler wrote:undead wrote:Everything else will grow back eventually.
Not all the warm and furry mammals, though. It's gonna be several million years of lizards, roaches and slime molds. And fungi. Poor trees. I hope the fish and sea mammals make a come back, but the acid levels!
The trees appreciate our concern, but they have no other choice than to live. Literally, I mean this literally, the trees will destroy "us" when they have to. They don't live like us and do not think like us. But I am certain they do think about us on much, much lower frames of time. Not in an infantile way, but much more amazingly, the trees will do war with us if we do not clean up our act. They fucking recognize our, as humans, blink of an eye or loss of a limb. It is a slow and very ancient language. Humans cannot recognize their language. Because we are too sped up.
I'm not fucking with you. This is true because they told me and yeah, call me a kook. But this is what trees in the old growth forest of Mt Rainier told me, like almost I could hear it. Alone. The old trees took pity on us and yet could not bother to save us, because "they couldn't" but wanted to. They still like us though, because how could they possibly care?
They care because they have seen enough. They will die in order to kill us and then grow again. Word gets around in the trees. Forests have consciences far more advanced than anything any human knows. But I was promised that they are kind. Not conditionally, unconditionally. They realize our need for them and they sacrifice because they are leaps and bounds more smart the we are, just their thoughts are so slow and their language so muddled, but their spirit extremely potent.
Tellin' you, this is what the fucking trees told me
Kook?
Man, compared to me, you're an amateur.
The oak in my garden speaks in and through me.
Slowly yes, oh so slowly.
Through the rhythm of moving slowly.
Heart of oak.
Pendragon of Albion.
The spirits gather round me.
Oak spirit is old and wise spirit, he helped me when I was born.
I guess he will be there to help me again if I need it.
But we still search for the entwives.
Treebeard says that the Entwives began to move farther away from the Ents because they liked to plant and control things, while the Ents preferred forests and liked to let things take their natural course. The Entwives moved away to the region that would later become the Brown Lands across the Great River Anduin, although the male Ents still visited them. The Entwives, unlike the Ents, interacted with the race of Men and taught them much about the art of agriculture.
The male Ents resemble wild forest trees that they guard (oaks, rowans, etc.), but the Entwives guarded agricultural plants, and Tolkien seems to imply that they resembled the various agricultural plants they guarded. Treebeard remarks that their hair was the hue of ripe corn (grain).
The Entwives lived in peace until their gardens were destroyed by Sauron, whereupon the Entwives themselves disappeared. The Ents looked for them but never found them. It was sung by the Elves (as the Ents were content simply to "chant their beautiful names") that one day the Ents and Entwives would find each other. Indeed, in The Return of the King, Treebeard implored the Hobbits not to forget to send word to him if they "hear any news" of the Entwives "in your land."... (Fimbrethil was) Treebeard's long-lost wife, also known as Wandlimb the lightfooted. The pair were beloved since before even Morgoth first arose in power during the youth of the world. Translated, her name meant according to the 1966 Index 'slim-birch' (according to Appendix F 'slender-beech'). As with all of the other Entwives, Fimbrethil had been missing since Sauron's forces destroyed the gardens of the Entwives during the Second Age. At the time of the War of the Ring, Treebeard had not seen his beloved Fimbrethil for over three millennia.
Three millennia?
Jeez, I wouldn't be so patient.
Where is my Fimbrethil?
Just for you mr 82 because I love ya, and because you own your shit;
Rhythm Method.
With the rhythm moving slowly,
We equate with the most lowly.
In we tune to lower tempo,
Even slower! Lento, lento!
In time we perceive frequencies,
Vast range of possibilities.
The mind may range both far and near,
To seek to mend the final tear.
This meditation truly should,
Recall Treebeard of darkened wood.
Ancient giant of oaken girth,
Plant Man be spirit of the earth!
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Posted: Thu Jan 10, 2013 7:13 pm