{"title":"Trees — Singles (service)","description":"","products":[{"product_id":"a-new-life","title":"A New Life","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"long-description\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIt usually arrives without warning, rarely on the timeline you would have chosen. You spend a winter, often a long one, doing the slow work of staying upright. You stop expecting much. Then one morning in late March or early April, you notice that the air smells different. The car park has a tree in it that turned pink overnight. The year has decided to start, with or without your permission.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn a meadow somewhere in Italy, a small cherry tree blooms by itself in the middle of a grassy field. Nobody planted it for an orchard. Nobody is keeping count of the harvest. The tree blooms because that is what trees do when the soil warms up and the days grow long enough, and it does it with a generosity that has nothing to do with whether anybody walked past today to see it.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eReads alongside \u003cem\u003eH is for Hawk\u003c\/em\u003e by Helen Macdonald, \u003cem\u003eA Little Life\u003c\/em\u003e by Hanya Yanagihara, or any book given to somebody starting again at something.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","brand":"The Fine Art of Bookmarks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58112175800704,"sku":"TFAOB-S17-B081","price":14.9,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0996\/2346\/9440\/files\/a-new-life-fine-art-bookmark-fine-art-bookmark-cover.jpg?v=1780057033"},{"product_id":"ancient-tree","title":"Ancient Tree","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"long-description\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere are objects in the world that have been doing what they do for longer than the family you come from has been a family. Trees, mainly. A few rivers. A few stones in front of a few churches. They have outlasted languages, regimes, languages used to describe regimes. None of them know your name. None of them needed to. The grandfather who never moved from his village is the same kind of object, smaller and warmer.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThis tree, somewhere at the foot of a Mediterranean mountain, has been doing its trick for centuries. The trunk has bent itself almost flat to the ground and grown back up, twice in the same lifetime. There is no record of who first walked past it. There is no record of who is walking past it now.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSits alongside \u003cem\u003eThe Overstory\u003c\/em\u003e by Richard Powers, \u003cem\u003eUnderland\u003c\/em\u003e by Robert Macfarlane, or any history of a place told through its trees.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","brand":"The Fine Art of Bookmarks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58112175833472,"sku":"TFAOB-S17-B082","price":14.9,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0996\/2346\/9440\/files\/ancient-tree-fine-art-bookmark-fine-art-bookmark-cover.jpg?v=1780057031"},{"product_id":"forest-flight","title":"Forest Flight","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"long-description\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThere is an hour at the end of certain days when the difference between what is moving and what is staying becomes harder to draw. The lamp on the desk and the cat on the bed are both objects. The friend on the phone and the wind outside the window are both voices. Nothing has changed. The hour has just stopped insisting on the categories. Then the lamp goes off, and the categories come back, and you go to bed.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA tree in a field at dusk, in mist that has gone fully peach. A flock of birds high up, on their way somewhere only they decided. The tree stays, of course. It always stays. But for a few minutes at this hour it is hard to tell which of the two is doing the dreaming.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eA natural fit for \u003cem\u003eTinkers\u003c\/em\u003e by Paul Harding, \u003cem\u003eThe Memory Police\u003c\/em\u003e by Yoko Ogawa, or any book read alone with the window open and no plans for tomorrow.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","brand":"The Fine Art of Bookmarks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58112175866240,"sku":"TFAOB-S17-B083","price":14.9,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0996\/2346\/9440\/files\/forest-flight-fine-art-bookmark-fine-art-bookmark-cover.jpg?v=1780057085"},{"product_id":"forest-gates","title":"Forest Gates","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"long-description\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eOutside the forest: a phone that buzzes, a conversation you have not finished, a bag heavier than it needed to be, a half-dozen small worries that fit perfectly in a city. Inside the forest: cold air on the back of the neck, the sound of your own feet on the path, yellow light through the canopy in late October. Outside, you have things to do today. Inside, somewhere around the second hour, it becomes clear you do not.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTwo beech trees frame the path into an autumn forest. They are the gate. The other trees behind them come in the same key. The leaves on the path are wet enough to be quiet. Whoever walks in here for the first time today is doing so under instructions nobody had to give them.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eReads alongside \u003cem\u003eWalden\u003c\/em\u003e by Henry David Thoreau, \u003cem\u003eA Walk in the Woods\u003c\/em\u003e by Bill Bryson, or any book read in a forest.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","brand":"The Fine Art of Bookmarks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58112175899008,"sku":"TFAOB-S17-B084","price":14.9,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0996\/2346\/9440\/files\/forest-gates-fine-art-bookmark-fine-art-bookmark-cover.jpg?v=1780057087"},{"product_id":"tree-shepherd","title":"Tree Shepherd","description":"\u003cdiv class=\"long-description\"\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eThey grow at their own pace, in places nobody is watching, and by the time anybody notices them they are already older than the people writing about them. The same is true of certain people. The teacher you still remember thirty years on. The colleague who always knew where the documents were. The grandmother who fed twelve grandchildren and never once seemed surprised by the work. Seniority did not arrive with an announcement. They became the centre while you were not looking.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIn a damp old-growth forest, an enormous beech tree stands covered in soft moss, its trunk broader than three people stretching their arms. Younger trees grow around it like apprentices. The light comes in green, having passed through the canopy first. Walking up to it you go quiet without being told.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eBelongs in the same shelf as \u003cem\u003eFinding the Mother Tree\u003c\/em\u003e by Suzanne Simard, \u003cem\u003eBraiding Sweetgrass\u003c\/em\u003e by Robin Wall Kimmerer, or any book about teachers, mentors, and the people who hold a place together.\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c\/div\u003e","brand":"The Fine Art of Bookmarks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":58112176161152,"sku":"TFAOB-S17-B085","price":14.9,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0996\/2346\/9440\/files\/tree-shepherd-fine-art-bookmark-fine-art-bookmark-cover.jpg?v=1780057166"}],"url":"https:\/\/thefineartofbookmarks.com\/collections\/trees-singles.oembed","provider":"The Fine Art Of Bookmarks","version":"1.0","type":"link"}