"And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."
"As You Like It" (Act 2 Scene 1), William Shakespeare
I grew up learning the cork oak trees. I witnessed their naked bark every nine years. Like cats with nine lives, the trees kept on giving. We kept on taking.
250 years old survivors, 150 years of service, and timeless beauty.
Looking at the worn-out olive leather and the thickness of the vintage button, I suddenly saw cork oak trees in books.
And a means to revere them...