I live in part of the world where there are no mountains. When I go outside I don't see in the distance the peaks breaking up into the skyline. I don't have forests to visit and roam on those mountains.
I live in a place where there is no saw mills. At least I have not seen any. I never see a log truck rumbling down the road with a load of logs. Some, of course would wonder, why I would want to see log trucks. “Aren't you a tree lover,” they would say. Yes I do love trees and log trucks would mean there are trees close by.
I live in a place where liking trees is an oddity. I have never run into a person that hikes in the woods to find trees. In fact when I hike in most woods I go to I don't run into anybody. Now that can be taken both ways. One of the reasons I like going to where trees grow is to enjoy the peace that is there. And if I had people there the peace would be broken. Yet in the times when I have come across someone, there is interesting conversation. But I can't remember what it was, that was a while back.
I do live in a place where there are patches of woods here and there. And I make use of these woods often. And I thank the Lord for these trees. If you like trees you don't have to have millions to enjoy. One tree has enough to it to learn and watch for decades. A tree is like an old friend. When I come across a tree I have visited before I can learn and remember and note what is there.