For the past few months, from various vantage points, I’ve been observing trees.
Okay, so my life isn’t real exciting 😉
As I’ve often mentioned, I am extremely blessed to live on a small parcel of land in a semi-rural area. The land has a lovely pond with a hill behind it (a small hill to many, but plenty big to me) and lots of trees of different kinds.
At intervals around the pond and on the top of the hill are small park benches, courtesy of my husband. Like most humans though, I am too often a creature of habit and tend to sit in the same place when I’m out there. One day last spring, in a torment of illness and in an effort to distract myself from my own despair, I made myself sit in a different spot.
Hmm, what is that? I don’t remember seeing that before…
A dead ash tree, about which I’d been sad, on the hill – was it alive? No – but something… Flowering! I went closer. Apparently previously unable to show-off in the shadow of the ash tree, was a beautiful flowering crab-apple. Just gorgeous! If the ash tree hadn’t fallen victim to the pest that’s taken so many of them, I never would have seen it. If I hadn’t changed my habitual viewpoint, I’d have missed the most beautiful spring show on the hill.
Summer came. I’d known the ash trees lining the road in front of our house had also fallen victim and died. Each one lost has deeply saddened me. One day I was well enough to take my time by the road when I was getting the mail. Flowers! I remember these, I planted them years ago – they’ve never bloomed before. I didn’t even know they were still alive! The light changed as the trees lost their leaves – and here was a gift to mitigate my sorrow.
It’s fall now. Good weather for sitting on the top of the hill, it’d been too hot there in the summer. Time to change my viewpoint again. From here I can see the tops of many of the trees on the property. I can see the fruit trees mixed in with the rest. Although I knew they weren’t as tall as the others, it’s really apparent now.
I find myself looking at all the different tree heights and thinking about usefulness. How often have I felt useless thanks to this illness? Unable to measure up. Unable to be like others. I begin to compare the trees to people. Some bear obvious fruit – apples, pears, peaches and more. They tend to be shorter, closer to hand, their fruit easy to pick.
An oak tree estimated to be at least 200 years old, host to many nests, many creatures depend on the acorns in fall. It becomes a gigantic umbrella to my home and that of my neighbor. An inspiration to hold on over time – indeed, to flourish! A delight to both houses when it wakes in the spring and a study in divine geometry in the winter.
Maple trees. Some would give sweet syrup if tapped in spring – a hidden treasure. All provide seed “helicopters” to delight the young and those who dare to play at any age. Generous in their incredible shows in fall and cool respite in the hottest of summers.
Pines of many types. Beautiful even in deepest winter as they catch snow on their boughs. Making beauty from the harshest weather. Pinecones provide food to hungry creatures and the elements of crafts to eager hands.
Black walnuts present me with a reminder that sometimes we have to work very hard for treasures within. Processing their nuts, even opening them, takes many steps, much work and a lot of time but the flavor is unmatched.
Among the tallest of all the trees, I find more food for thought. A cottonwood, unbelievably tall! Considered by many to be “junk trees.” Junk? Not to the fish who rise from the depths of the pond to pluck cottonwood seeds from the surface. Not to that woodpecker who spends his days devotedly “grooming” the tree and finding delicious creepy crawlies. Not in the night when, ill and in pain, I need to see the companionship of God in His stars that rise between certain branches. The perfectly flat leaves flutter in the least of breezes and make me smile. The wild rose-bush that flourishes at its base delights my senses every year. This is not “junk” – it’s a description of treasure!
Trees – obvious fruits and not-so-obvious. Heights and breadths from reachable to breathtaking. Shading or letting in new light. It seems every single one has its use.
A change of viewpoint, a shift of light, just a change from where I usually sit…
I didn’t always have such wonderful views but I remember seeing how the light hit the mica in different squares of cement in the city. I know my room looks new if I lay my head at the foot of my bed.
Just a change of viewpoint, a shift of light…
Peace!
Oh, how delighted I was to find you are back! I have truly missed your beautiful writings.
I am in a very low place, have been for quite some time–longer than I care to recognize or admit. I have not been able to shake these feelings–of what—despair? I don’t know. I just feel as if I am losing my grip. But, today I found your posts. Again you have brought me along on a beautiful outing in your backyard. It brings me peace and a break from the grief I have been feeling. I do so love your work. Thank you and welcome back.
I look forward to hearing more about this new journey of yours.
CJ
You are so very kind and generous! I am so sorry to learn that you’ve been spending a long time at the bottom of the well (as I think of it.) Sometimes when I’m there I wonder if I’m ever going to see anything again but the slimy, chipped bricks. Eventually, I realize I’ve raised my head and can at least see the daylight above – and strength of spirit begins to return. St. Benedict is reinforcing for me that God is everywhere (even – and perhaps especially – at the bottom of the well ), in every thing and in every one. In all the tragedies of my life, He has never, ever failed to hear my plea to persevere.
May you soon see daylight and feel deeper relief from your grief. To be as generous and warm as you are in the midst of your own suffering is an important lesson (gift) for me.
Thank you for showing me that divinity within today, CJ
Peace!
I’m so glad you are posting again. Your way with words makes everything you describe come alive and in vibrant color. Thanks for brightening my day! Love you…
You do that for me every day, just knowing you’re there.
Love you too.
Peace
“A change of viewpoint – a shift of light…” 🙂 I needed to hear that today… 🙂
How lovely to have been the instruments of gifts to each other. 🙂
Peace
I’ve missed your beautiful words. Again you have taken me to your world and I’ve enjoyed visiting. When I see a Cottonwood tree it reminds me of my childhood. We had them everywhere. My Mom would fuss about the cotton that would stick to the screens and coat the fans. I want to come and sit in your yard with you.
mo
“I want to come and sit in your yard with you.”
Anytime.
You are so very kind, thank you.
Peace, mo.
You are very kind and I have certainly found no selfishness in your views!
I wish for you that “peace overflowing like the little acorns that drop from the oak tree” too! You said that so beautifully.
Peace.