Tree Hugger - "Ecology"

Our Uncommon Threads art quillt group proposed the theme "ecology" for this month's challenge.  Also the quilt was to be 12x12.  I pondered about the sea --I recently heard of an oceanographer's plan to feed the world with kelp farms deep in the sea.  "Kelp not kale" a slogan -- I like that! I'm not a kale fan.

However, I could not visualize a kelp farm underwater. I remembered this photograph of great-grandson, Silas, and that I wrote a poem called Tree Hugger. The poem is about childhood, not about ecology, but I love the photo and knew I wanted to use it with this particular fabric. The name of the quilt is "Treasure the Trees". (the less than distinct photo at the bottom right is a fallen tree.  Remember, if you click on the photo it enlarges; I suggest you do that, I have a grandmother's fondness for the the expression on Silas' face.

Here is the poem that was written a couple of years ago:

    Tree Hugger

The big man, with a kind voice,
jabbed a needle into soft baby flesh.
AAAAAAAW!
“It’s okay,” Mommy said, fixing his clothes.
“It’s okay.” She held her little boy
like she did many, many times,
hugging, rocking a little, “It’s okay.”
For a while it was okay.
He fell asleep as the car purred home.

But it wasn't okay. At dinner
he felt ick-ish; he slapped at the food
and whimpered; he wanted something
but not dinner. His brothers didn’t care,
Mommy and Daddy were busy with them.
He blubbered and fussed.
“I know, I know,” Daddy said. Strong arms 
 lifted him. Daddy gave him ice cream,
that was okay … for a while. Daddy held him
and talked to the others, patting his back,
pat, pat, pat. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.”
The little boy went to sleep, but it wasn’t okay.
He woke up fussing, whimpering, Mommy
held him, both fell asleep in the rocking chair.

It wasn’t okay the next day either. He fussed,
he whimpered, he felt tired and restless.
The brothers said, “It’ll be okay,” but they didn’t
remember their shots and their “Not-okay” days.
When the others went to school, Mommy
held him, but he wiggled free. She got his shoes
and coat and hat and they went for a walk.
He mumbled and stumbled through the leaves.
Then he found the sturdy little piney tree,
cool and rough and still. Tree didn’t say, “It’s okay.”
Tree didn’t hug or rock, but it stood solid and good,
He was okay just hugging the tree..