Trees are like a silent communion
There is the immensity of the ocean and there is the majesty of a tree; two of natures gift’s that fill me with an inner tranquility and a quiet sense of perspective.
A rape was taken to the beach to watch the ocean move and I came away still loving men.
A miscarriage was taken to an oak tree where I could lean against the trunk and sit in the shade of its vast limbs and I came away knowing that quality rather then quantity should be the focus of life.
I can sit at my kitchen window and look out on a tree that is so large it graces two houses and the street with shade and serenity. It’s green limbs soar into the sky and reach out to the birds that make it their home. This winter a storm tore a large portion of it’s stately trunk apart and left a gaping scar. I watched as a crew of men worked on the tree that I had begun to feel was my friend and I felt an ache inside.
In the Spring there is a tree that feels as if it displays it’s beauty just for me. It is the Jacaranda. It blossoms in the warm, clear weather. Its flowers are a breathtaking hue of purple. There are neighborhoods here that are lined with the Jacaranda and when you drive down the street you feel as if you have entered a purple world of wonder. The air even feels purple. The blossoms fall on the green lawns and the yards become a maze of purple. They spill out into the street and as I drive down the lanes that are lined with the beautiful tree the cool breath of the indigo shade combined with the bright purple blossoms feel as if God has given me a gift; a lovely hint of what my walk into heaven will be.
And when the blossoms have all fallen and the tree is bare again it has an artistic pod that it drops to the ground for me to use in Christmas wreaths and baskets.
Many complain of the sticky purple flowers and the work it requires to clean them up, butwhen I had a Jacaranda in my yard I loved every blossom that fell.