The alien and the apple tree

So I sat under the old apple tree looking at some strange curved thing like something out of H.R Gigers fevered dream.

The trunk was hollow while the branches bore apples still of the old crab apple variety no good for eating maybe cider.

A bottle of red I found fit perfectly in a hollow branch like it was made for it as the branches gave me shade from the heat of the sun.

I craned my neck and the branches brushed it giving me comfort like an old friend.

This was all I needed right here right now as I sat for hours and hours by the gnarled trunk riddled with holes and still living an ancient thing.

A beautiful thing must have been over a hundred years old.

If it had words to speak perhaps I heard them if I listened carefully not whispers or voice but a communion somewhere in my mind in the hidden places where thought goes.

All sorts of thought entered my mind as I wondered if trees had thought did they think the same as us I sat silently giving my offering to the old tree.

On this strange summers day a thinking.