Another memory from Sedona...
"We never look deeply into the quality of a tree; we never really touch it...and hear the sound that is part of the tree. Not the sound of wind through the leaves, not the breeze of a morning that flutters the leaves, but its own sound, the sound of the trunk and the silent sound of the roots."~ Jiddu Krishnamurti
My friend,
Joanne, greatly appreciated the tree that stood in front of her townhouse.
One day Joanne noticed spots on nearly all the leaves. Close inspection revealed that millions of tiny bugs had invaded her arboreal friend. She called the homeowners’ association to report the problem and asked that the tree be
treated.
Joanne was horrified when, a few days later, she came home to find the tree being chopped down.
She regretted reporting the problem. “I should have sprayed it, tried some things myself, taken some other
approach,” she repeated to herself and to all who would listen.
Day after day, Joanne mourned her missing tree. Where there had been beauty and vibrant life, there was now a barrenness in front of her home – no singing birds, no swaying branches, no soothing shade, no musical rustling of leaves – just a circle of stones, like a grave marker, around where the
tree had stood.
Many months later, a shoot appeared from within that circle of empty red earth. Joanne thought it was a weed. “At least something green is growing there,” she thought. Then another shoot appeared, and another. Soon, it looked like a shrub. But in a year’s time, it was again a tree… the same
tree.
For, although all that stood above the ground had been removed, the roots continued to live below ground.
Like the “Tree of Heaven” in Betty Smith’s novel, A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN, for both Joanne and I, the
return of her resilient tree symbolizes the strength and hope that lives in all of us.
Love and reverence too,
Charlene
REVERENCE: May you appreciate the wonder that you are and the miracle of all creation. from The Twelve Gifts of
Birth
