The heart shaped tree I can see from my bedroom window is waving.
It sways, appearing to inflate and contract. When the wind settles for a moment the tree quivers gently and doesn’t quite find stillness. Another gust and it let’s itself loose to be tossed this way and that.
To be a tree . . .
is to be flexible, to endure whatever comes with good grace. Accepting of the wind, heavy deluges of rain and snow. Enduring scorching sun and drought.
To be a tree . . .
is to witness all of life as it passes by day and night. To be pee’d on by dogs and the odd human too. To be hit by balls in the park and have love letters carved into it’s bark.
To be a tree . . .
is to offer all of humanity oxygen to breathe, shade from the heat of the sun on a summers day and shelter from a sudden downpour.
To be a tree . . .
Is to have deep roots to provide resilience, nourishment and stability. To keep the tree grounded when all around is wild and unpredictable. Its root system strong and wide, its connection to the earth.
A tree doesn’t bite the hand that feeds it.
The earth is its benefactor, its provider, its trusted friend.
Without the earth the tree cannot exist.
The tree know this.
The tree is grateful.
The tree does not question it’s reliance on the earth.
It knows its natural, nature, as things should be.
To Be a Human . . .
Humans are no different to the trees. Except, we have lost our way. We take too much for granted. We are not grateful for our earth, we exploit it.
And one day we’ll come along and cut that beautiful tree down. So it can be useful to us. That beautiful wise tree, that has taken years to flourish and grow and provide oxygen for humans to breathe and shelter and shade.
It’s cut down.
Chopped off.
No ceremony.
No care.
To make toilet paper.
We need to be more tree.
Holker Hall Cumbria trees remind me of the Hobbiton.
To be more tree... I live next to a forest and you’ve reminded me that I need to spend more time there, with the trees.