We got a few inches of snow this morning, a surprise in a season that seemed to skip much of winter. We got about three inches of snow, and it’s already melting. A farmer I know said there is no reason to move to Florida any longer when he retired; he can stay right up here in upstate New York and stay warm.
And his farmhouse won’t get blown over in a hurricane, and an alligator won’t eat his wife’s poodle.
I would also miss the regal old trees and how they offer me such beauty, even in the winter.
I love it here in the winter; it makes Spring wondrously beautiful, and the Winter Pasture is breathtaking. I love living by the seasons, not just the warm temperatures.
The life of a tree inspires me. A tree doesn’t seem to be doing anything. It just stands there, beautiful and full of life. A tree is always the same thing to me: hope, joy, and life itself. If a tree were something other than a tree, that could be a problem.
The same idea applies to me.
If I can be myself, this is already some action and decision about my life. The message of a tree to me is that I can be myself. Action is being.
Inevitably, some people won’t like me. It is important to me to accept that with pride and courage. Trees seem to do that already. I’ve never understood any tree to care what people think of them.
The blue sky made a valiant effort to greet me this morning, but it could only stay for a short while.
The windowsill gallery looked especially beautiful against the gray sky.
I’ve always loved to look at and admire trees. Most of my vacation pictures involved trees. LOL I hate it when my neighbors cut down trees. I mourn the loss. Soon I will plant a redbud tree. Maybe I will live long enough to see my grandchildren climb in it.
Hi Jon, I had an experience where a tree does very much care what people think about them. This was years ago, when I was 18 years old, meditating under a big, leafy tree. In the middle of my meditation a chain saw roared and started to tackle my tree’s neighbor. The tree definitely told me it was frightened that it was going to get cut down. I vehemently replied (as spontaneously as can be done in a meditation, I think), “You’re not going to get cut down. There’s a fence between that tree and you, and the guy won’t come over here and cut you down.” The tree went jitterly quiet. At the time I didn’t know anything about trees or nature, and what that tree could have been further thinking about its sibling tree. All I knew, decades ago, was that people don’t talk to trees, so I must be crazy! Now I know I wasn’t crazy, but I do have to say that this was a very significant experience for me. Trees do care what people think.