“Say cheese,” she said, even though she knew I wouldn’t.<\/p>\n
“Smile, for me,” she urged, even though she knew I couldn’t.<\/p>\n
There’s something mysterious about photos in a forest<\/p>\n
because if you’re lost among the trees, you can’t be a tourist<\/p>\n
because those drones stay in the cities, among money and parks;<\/p>\n
they couldn’t possibly understand, underestimate, the power of the barks.<\/p>\n
They talk to me, is what I have to say, to tell a story,<\/p>\n
but don’t you go and suddenly feel sorry,<\/p>\n
because you don’t know me<\/p>\n
and truly<\/p>\n
I don’t think you want to.<\/p>\n
So even though she wanted to to smile then,<\/p>\n
she knew that it was never going to happen.<\/p>\n
Because the trees,<\/p>\n
they like to scream,<\/p>\n
they like to wave their leaves<\/p>\n
until you leave.<\/p>\n
Have you ever noticed how the branches<\/p>\n
seem to take all their chances<\/p>\n
and reach out beyond what it looks like they can,<\/p>\n
but it always seems like they have a plan?<\/p>\n
Have you ever noticed how<\/p>\n
the branches of trees will be a sheaf<\/p>\n
of paper, and how the branches<\/p>\n
reach out and look like a leaf?<\/p>\n
It’s strange to me<\/p>\n
that all we see<\/p>\n
is from one to two<\/p>\n
and two to three,<\/p>\n
because there’s so much more between the numbers<\/p>\n
than simply just the lumber<\/p>\n
and they want you to know that, too.<\/p>\n
At some point, perhaps you could stop and see<\/p>\n
the forest for all of the trees,<\/p>\n
but until then, they will just scream to me,<\/p>\n
and me alone,<\/p>\n
until I’ve gone home,<\/p>\n
like a true tourist.<\/p>\n
So “Cheese,” she said, and cheese she meant,<\/p>\n
when she wanted to take that picture,<\/p>\n
and all did she know that it was the trees<\/p>\n
that made my smile flicker.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
“Say cheese,” she said, even though she knew I wouldn’t. “Smile, for me,” she urged, even though she knew I couldn’t. There’s something mysterious about photos in a forest because if you’re lost among the trees, you can’t be a tourist because those drones stay in the cities, among money and parks; they couldn’t possibly […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":285,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/284"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=284"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/284\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":961,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/284\/revisions\/961"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/285"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=284"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=284"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/girlwriter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=284"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}