Martinis with a Redwood Tree

Roots upturned, crossed knees form a lap. Poison oak brushed to the side and bees buzzing freely. Swinging vines and mossed horizontal saplings never grown old in the straining sun. Another tree leans allowing glowing penetration to fall to the floor as distant mouths and winds howl.
The waters uninterpretable secret is repeated, lest forgotten, unbroken over and over. Over rocks and shelves, beneath natural bridges. Over falls and under caves, absentmindedly rolling a small turtle like an olive from glass to mouth.