Thoughts from a winter forest

I was snowshoeing the other day and there were strong gusts. I spent a lot of time listening to wind in the trees. The poet in me thought he heard the trees breaking their shackles of ice, bending to the will of the wind. The physicist in me thought the bigger trees were experiencing about ten thousand foot pounds of torque. The scout leader in me thought how embarrassing it would be if I had to be rescued from under a fallen tree.