Nature Worship

Sheila couldn't begin to say when she started falling for the the petrified tree, but it had been quite some time ago.

They needed no words to communicate.

She would peel off all her clothes, and drape herself around the tree, gingerly, yet firmly caressing it and moving as slowly as sticky tree-bark molasses goo; peering into its crevices with wonder and fervor while passionately trying to wriggle in through the open spaces, or at least extend one of her own limbs inward, her fingers or toes or sometimes her tongue searching for the multi-layered 360 degree tree rings deep inside the rough exterior.

No man had ever come as close to enchanting and entrancing her as this old trunk had, with its knobby limbs, tough bark and deep, dark holes. She could see straight through the Universe and beyond when she was with her one true love, her solid constant, her mighty, awe-inspiring seductor.

She was a nature worshipper, indeed.