What is it about the touch of bark that touches us so?
The texture is so very different to that of anything we experience on ourselves and our animal friends. It is unique, strange, hard, coarse, and yet – so inviting, so comforting. The hardness and coarseness of bark does not prevent us from embracing it, feeling it against our faces. Rather it invites us to mold ourselves around it, to hold on and not let go. Were we once this bark? Were we once encased in it, before breaking out into human form?
Seems fantastical, but yet there is something that speaks of HOME, that even a slight touch evokes. It is mysterious and magical, the basic ingredients of a fairytale. Or is that what bark is trying to teach us – that the fantasy is indeed reality? That what we consign to the label of magic and fairytale is indeed real?
I am left ignorant of what bark is trying to teach me. I can only lean into bark more, embrace it with all of me and perhaps over time, bark will reveal its secrets to me.