Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Back in sixth grade I had to do a report on the trees of Pennsylvania. One memory of that project has remained strongly with me- riding my bike on a beautiful late spring day looking for different leaf patterns, indications of maples and oaks and black walnuts, then stopping to cut a leaf to later place in my report. Maybe that is where my love for trees began, though I think it probably started with my almost daily exploration of the wooded area behind my home when I was only six or seven years old.
Trees in the winter display a special majesty with their bare branches reaching skyward, especially on a day like the one I shot these photos where the sky was an intensely brilliant blue. The air, wintery brisk, felt almost like a slap in the face as I walked along. I hadn't worn gloves so my fingers became cold, numb even, but those trees continued to beckon me to take their pictures.
Without leaves, their typical adornment in our three other seasons, trees reveal their structure. They aren't hiding, can't hide, who they truly are. I love their boldness, their beautiful witness to the God who created them, as they reach towards the heavens, waiting for the life within them to manifest itself once again in the spring.
I had an unusual dream several weeks ago. I felt I should share what I wrote about it directly from my journal.
I look at my hand and under the surface of the skin I see something growing-tendrils of a plant, trying to push out, causing a bulge, a swollenness that scares me. I go to a nurse who tells me I need a blood transfusion to correct or calm the problem so she puts in an iv- attaches a bag of blood to my upper shoulder and I can see the blood drip through the plastic tubing into my arm......it appears the swelling in my left hand has gone down a bit and I continue to walk around, receiving the blood as I go.
I look down and notice roots growing out of my feet- I see my sister Lisa and I say to her "Sistie- Look what's happening to me."
The fear I felt initially is replaced on my face with a look of pure joy. Lisa sees it. I feel as if my hands lift up and become branches- that this entire form of a tree spills out from within me, and its branches expand out and beyond myself, giving place for many birds to find refuge in its branches.
Like most women I play a variety of roles, all of which I love. Mom of six great kids, lover of food magazines and baking, gardener, photographer, and in recent years, especially, writer. Writing is enabling me to find my truest self, and inspire others to do the same. I am also a deeply spiritual person who sees God through the lens of Christianity, though I am open to learning from many different faith backgrounds.