Tiny cabins, tents, and campers encircle the field that surrounds the vast and mighty birch.
Families and children, seniors and singles, campfires and dogs fill the cabins tents and campers that encircle the field that surrounds the vast and mighty birch.
A simple touch of her bark lets you feel her ancient wisdom and unmoving ever-presence.
She has greeted the sun and watched as it set tens of thousands of times. Season after season she has shed her golden coat and been re-born in green.
She does not judge the woodpeckers or the insects that feed at her expense. She does not judge the children who climb into her arms, or the lovers who have scarred her with their devotions.
She has watched children become adults, adults become parents, parents become grandparents, and eventually widows and widowers.
She knows that the elderly woman in cabin three quietly watches the man who sits beneath her wondering if the boy who carved their names all those years ago is still alive, and if he remembers that day.
She was here before the people, before the cabins, before the campfires, and she'll still be here after they are all gone, somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania, tucked into rolling mountains, in the middle of a large open field, the vast and mighty birch.