Gaze Upon a Tree

We are surrounded by trees in our little corner of the world. Tall, skinny; thick and squat. Young, supple saplings, struggling for sun in the crowded wood. Straight, crooked, leaning; some even horizontal, having ended their fight to stand firm and strong.

I gaze on these trees nearly every morning. They form patterns that I’ve come to recognize, and I search for them in the morning as I gaze out to pray, or from my porch in midsummer, soaking in the mellow-green of the trees around me. The glories of golden autumn or winter white while surveying the trees in my wood is no less glorious.

Trees teach us much about life, about us and our own life-cycles; about our hearts and souls, about the good and strong things of life.

This picture I’ve attached is of the side-yard in my home, the view of my morning prayer time, where I sit and think, and dream, and pray. There are are all kinds of trees, their varied structures obvious and bold, as their woody bones are laid bare before the full leaf of summer descends.

There are two trees there, side by side- slender, tall, straight. They are like bold, young adults striking out into the world, filled with vision and passion. They are slim and lithe; they bend in the breeze, their high branches dancing in delight with the changes in the wind. They reach up and out, seeking what they will, high up and away. Yes, the beautiful proclamation of youth; brash, supple, graceful. Weren’t we once like that?

There are also trees that lean - some alarmingly so. One tree began losing the battle with gravity a few years ago, lilting alarmingly to the left. When I look upon it, I cringe, thinking it will crash down any moment. But a closer look shows that a neighbor-tree, strong and straight, has caught the tree and keeps it alive. The leaning tree’s roots remain in the ground and each summer, it leafs out in beautiful green, defying what appears to be that inevitable descent to the wooded floor. Sometimes, we’re like that too, leaning hard and sad upon another, needing their companion-strength to hold us as life tries to push us over. But like that leaning tree? We’re not letting go.

There are also trees that have twisted up crooked, looking for their share of sunshine and rain in the wood, battling for a place on the forested floor. They are stubborn and unrelenting. They do not give up, but simply work their limbs around the stronger trees, the taller trees. Each spring, I watch to see that they’ve leafed out for yet another season. I am grateful for their persistence; their shade is no less welcome, no less beautiful, no less cooling on a hot summer’s day. Our own misshapen parts of ourselves are similarly precious to others. We become stronger in our crooked and twisted places. What is not perfect in us brings comfort and love to those around us.

We have also lost several trees in bad storms in the past years. Two hurricanes and a vicious tropical storm over twelve years have taken down about 10 trees on our property. It always breaks my heart to see these trees come down; at least two of them were respectably old trees, trunk diameters of 5-6 feet each crashing down in loud cracking protest, pounding and bouncing on the ground loud. Trees may not scream or yell the way we do; but their death-cries are not silent- no peaceful whisper as they give up their rooted existence. Invariably, however, we discover the trees were hollow inside, slowly and over time losing their deep-rooted grasp on life as rot and decay took over. But the next year? The smaller trees around them stand straighter, reach higher. The space left by the departed trees has given way to smaller ones taking on new life, claiming the sunshine and air and water with longer, leafier and higher branches. Although those wondrous old trees are sorely missed, the younger ones give promise that the life-cycle of trees in our small corner of the world will continue.

And there are many trees on our property that have simply fallen down over time. They lie horizontal. some with bare trunks, branches fallen off or blown away by storms, wind, and weather- their trunks bleached white like so many dead bones. Over time, they decay into the wooded floor, nourishing and supporting those young saplings that are sprouting up around them.

Keeping our eyes open to the world around us by focusing on the ever-present piece of nature that is before us is deep wisdom. The complex simplicity of trees as they move through their life cycle keeps us grounded, literally, in the esoteric as well as the practical; in the earthly and mundane, as well as the sacred and holy. We come to realize the universe is all of a piece; all as one. The good news is, we don’t need to study all things in the universe to come to this truth: we simply need to watch the trees around us - with an eye to understand, to appreciate, to love.

So, join me in looking at a tree. Delight in the golden sunlight on the green canopy; marvel at its glow in moonlight. Watch raindrops bounce on on a single leaf; wonder at the wind dancing about its branches. Trust me; this meditation on trees will revive, renew and restore your faith in you. And in the world.