157. When, after reading a chapter about Arya in A Clash of Kings,
you just HAVE to flip forward to see how far you have to read until she comes up again.
An oak may live three hundred years, a redwood tree three thousand. A weirwood will live forever if left undisturbed. To them seasons pass in the flutter of a moth’s wing, and past,present, and future are one.
The Old Gods. You know, even before I had heard of the Song of Ice and Fire series, I had this image of trees. Obviously, there are no trees with faces carved in them thousands of years ago (at least I’ve never seen any), but I’ve always seen trees as silent sentinels who have watched over the years. I always feel bad when I see logging trucks going by or when I see houses made of giant trees. It’s like destroying the one thing that knew hundreds of years of history, although it could never reveal its secrets. I’ve always seen the trees as Gods, but it wasn’t until I read the first few books in this series that I actually realized my thoughts. I really thought it odd that someone else felt the same way about old trees.
