In her October 11 #ThursdayTreeLove, Parul Thakur wrote about how people are oblivious to the trees they pass every day. She urged readers to “notice things around you and within you. Take nothing for granted. Nothing.”
My work environment is filled with gorgeous trees. I generally pass the same trees during my [almost] daily walk, but I “never, ever, ever” tire of them; there’s always something new or different to note. In fact, yesterday, as I was on my way to a warm spot to meditate and write, I was so distracted by the trees that my writing hour slipped away.
Unlike my tree venture two weeks ago, yesterday the trees provided the therapy I’d planned to find in writing.
Like Parul, when I’m enjoying the trees, I see others passing by with absolutely no awareness of them. Every now and then, they stop, wonder, and ask about what I’m observing or photographing. After a brief conversation, they pause and take note before walking away. I “cross my fingers” and hope they will no longer take the trees for granted.
If we’re not careful, trees will become part of the mundane, ordinary of our day to day, and they are much too beautiful, too knowing, too giving, too spectacular to be ordinary.
I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.
This was not a good week. I was ready to throw in the towel by Wednesday morning, but I got up, dressed, pushed through the rest of the week, and kept Philippians 4:13 on repeat.
I’m taking a mental health day tomorrow.
In the last couple of days, I was told twice–in so many words–that I was being negative. Me? The person who always finds the rainbow and gives [almost] everyone the benefit of the doubt? The individuals who commented were right. The heaviness of unexpressed grief, of holding it together, and of having to navigate all of life despite my feelings was seeping out in unpleasant ways.
Each time, I went back to my office and asked God for forgiveness and a little more of His grace. He didn’t give the scolding I deserved. Instead, He gave empathy, reminded me of my humanness, and affirmed my decision to take some time away from the usual maddening routine.
Normally, when I’m in an icky place internally, my camera and a slow walk with the trees work together to adjust my mood. Not so this week. I walked almost daily, spent time with the trees, looked for unique perspectives to photograph and…nothing. My mood was unchanged. I realized, sadly, considering the trees isn’t always an effective panacea.
Today is #ThursdayTreeLove and I was so sure I’d write a post about the lovely trees I’d considered all week. I’m not fond of the idea of sharing this week’s photos, so I decided to share some from a happier moment–photos from a walk through City Park in New Orleans with my mom, one of my older brothers, and my baby sister.
We captured loads of photos on that walk, but today, we’ll take a look at one of the gorgeous Oak Trees in the park:
My photos aren’t great, but I’m sharing them anyway because I love the structure of the tree, the network of branches, and the way the tree seems to reach across the park toward the other trees.
You can somewhat see the massive size of the tree if you note my “tiny” brother in the lower right corner of the photo.
Trees and buildings in the background are puny by comparison.
The 1300-acre City Park of New Orleans is home to 30,000 trees, and proudly boasts “the oldest grove of mature live oaks in the world, including the magnificent Anseman Oak and McDonogh Oak, which are between 750 and 900 years old” [See Trees in City Park].
My guys and I spent so much time in the Park when we lived in New Orleans that we captured hundreds of tree photos. We were (and still are) especially fond of the Oak Trees. The trees are simply breathtaking. One day, I’ll go through my collection and select a few to share on the blog. For now, enjoy a little extra #ThursdayTreeLove with a few more City Park Oak photos on my hubby’s blog. I think you’ll enjoy “The Root of It All.”
I read somewhere that trees are self-healing. I don’t remember all the details of the process, and I certainly don’t expect to do the healing work alone, but there’s wisdom in turning inward, taking care, and doing my part. I coped a bit better last week because I was intentional about spending some time daily, allowing myself to feel and write and think. I did none of that this week and it showed.
Moving forward, I’ll put into practice the lesson of the trees.
Today’s #ThursdayTreeLove post is dedicated to those who are nurturing a dream that seemingly never materializes.
Learn to plant a dream.
Learn to do the daily things that make it a reality.
Learn to ignore those who say it can’t happen.
Learn to push past your own fear and doubt and keep taking action.
Learn to have faith when there is no reason to have faith. –from “The Chinese Bamboo Story”
The bamboo trees in this post are from the Huntsville Botanical Garden (HBG). My guys and I visited the Garden about a month ago, courtesy of the HBG–in honor of my son’s placing in Botany category at the Alabama State Science and Engineering Fair last spring [Go V!].
My son has been growing his own bamboo plant since second grade (Thanks, Mrs. Crarey!) and I’ve been noticing its strength, resistance, and resilience. I couldn’t help but seek the bamboo trees when we were in the Garden last month. I saw them there six years ago, shortly after we moved to the area. I was thoroughly impressed then.
I am no less impressed now.
We have much to learn from the long, strong, and flexible tree. I especially appreciate its lesson in patience, so instead of a pithy quote, I decided to share “The Chinese Bamboo Story.” May you be inspired to patiently work your dreams:
The sight of this beautiful fallen tree in Brechtel Park in New Orleans used to sadden me. I saw it as another victim of Hurricane Katrina. Then, one day, I discovered that fallen trees offer many benefits to the forest and to creatures–seen and unseen. It’s heartening to know that there is still some usefulness in the fallen.
About the image: I shot the photo above at Brechtel Park in Algiers (Westbank New Orleans). According to the information available on the image, it was shot in 2011. For some reason, I thought it was earlier.
There is a long narrow table that spans the large window in my home office, made by my hubby, of course. This is where I sit in the early morning, as the sun rises, to spend time with God. As I study and meditate, I witness nature awakening, and I enjoy the brief encounters with birds, butterflies, and bumblebees that apparently love the zinnias growing just outside the window.
We see many different types of birds in our neighborhood, but I rarely see hummingbirds. I’ve seen them only twice in the six years we’ve lived here, and both times were at my window.
My second visit with a hummingbird was this morning, as I was meditating over Psalm 27. I had just read about the psalmist’s desire “to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple” (Psalm 27:4) and was praying the same for myself when the bird dropped by. How apropos! This was no coincidence. It was a subtle affirmation of the beauty of the holiness of the Most High and affirmation of His presence. A gift for today.
Note about today’s image: The photo was captured by Larry Keller who has an amazing Flickr feed filled with birds, deer, and other aspects of nature. Since there were still two more posts to complete “Sunflower Week,” I wanted an image for today that spoke to sunflowers and my early morning visitor. Larry graciously allowed use of his photo for today’s post. There are so many beautiful messages in nature, and I’m grateful for the many photographers who expertly capture what we miss or can’t experience for ourselves. Thank you, Larry, for your art and for your heart. Your photo is another gift for today!
Today’s Kindness Prompt: Take care of Mother Earth.
The first job given to mankind–after populating the earth–was to take care of it. As we’ve advanced, we’ve found more ways to damage the earth than to maintain it. Let’s do our part to change that.
One of the things I absolutely loved about my son’s Montessori School is that the school focused on the development of the whole person as a citizen of the world. The children were taught how to care about all people and how to care for the earth. Ziploc bags, disposable utensils and containers were not allowed. Lunches, including yogurt, milk and juice, had to be placed in reusable containers. There was a no waste policy. The director and teachers taught the children to conserve water when washing their hands and brushing their teeth and many other tips for saving the environment. The children learned that the little things we do as individuals add up to a world of difference.
Through my son’s early education, I became more intentional about my role in taking care of the earth. The idea of single-handedly conquering the varied “earth” issues is absurd, but there are many little things we can do to preserve our planet for future generations.
Starting today, let’s be kind to the earth. If you don’t know where to begin, here are a few simple suggestions:
- Use reusable containers, including water bottles and coffee cups
- Unplug small appliances and phone chargers when they are not in use
- Turn off the water while brushing your teeth or lathering up
- Use reusable grocery bags for shopping
- Keep a trash bag in your car, so when you see litter you can pick it up. This also minimizes the temptation to toss the “beer can” out the window
- Recycle and upcycle
- Plant a tree, a shrub, flowers
If you already do these things, kudos! Now, it’s time to step up your game. There’s always more that can be done.
Note about today’s image: The gorgeous painting above was created by Lori-Anne C, one of my Love Notes pals. She created this for the latest Global heART Exchange. The theme was “Nature Quotes.” The back of the painting is just as beautiful as the front.
Just joining Kindness Week? Be sure to check out the previous posts: