New York Tree

I wait quietly along the river for splashes of movement.  Nothing comes.  I close my eyes and listen.  I hear a dark, low tone beginning beneath the ground, rising up and up.  My senses perk and the sound reaches into the sky, strong and sustaining.  I open my eyes and I see a tree, rooted deep and stretching high whispering, "Here I am.  Tall and stong.  Photograph me." 

And so I do.