The diamond-studded grass crunches under my feet this morning. A few cotton wisps feather across the cerulean sky. And I am standing in golden confetti rain.
The trees are letting go.
I struggle for words to describe what I see and hear.
Riffle. Ruffle. Whoosh.
Pitter. Patter. Plop. Plop.
Tumble. Twirl. Float. Flop.
It strikes me as ironic that the colder I get, the more I wear, the more I weigh.
But the colder hardwoods get, the less they wear, the less they weigh.
I pull out the sweaters, pack on the layers, curl into myself.
They strip bare. And stand tall and naked.
I feel the need to lie down under the tree in the front yard. I hold my camera aloft so those in passing cars don’t stop to offer assistance or call 911. The leaves brush my cheeks and cling to my hair. I note how they nestle in the crooks of the branches, and I contemplate the calluses that surround the pruning scars.
(Later I read that trees never heal from hurt. They can’t replace injured tissue, but they are capable of isolating it from healthy wood.)
I ponder this letting go, this stripping, this nakedness. And I realize that the light shines brighter because of it.
Celebrating On, In and Around Mondays with L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone.
Beautiful photos! Beautiful thoughts! Thank you so much for sharing. May God bless you richly and abundantly today.
Thanks so much.
What lovely words and photos! Thanks for sharing. 🙂
Thanks, Karen.
I added myself to follow your blog. You are more than welcome to visit mine and become a follower if you want to.
God Bless You 🙂
~Ron
Thanks and welcome. I thought I was already following, actually. I am now.
Sandra, what fun! And beauty!
Our leaves are soggy wet and I am yearning for some crisp color in which to frolic. If you see me in your front yard, come out and join me, please! 😉
Blessings.
I wouldn’t miss that opportunity!
you take my breath away.
stunning images,
love your taste.
Awww. Thanks.
isolating injury from the healthy wood … what a concept to ponder
Indeed.
incredible.
you make me feel the trees.
Thanks, Emily.
Letting go, being stripped, letting in more light. Those are loaded images. What spiritual riches might be found there. But it’s not quite comfortable, is it?
Beautiful connections.
Not comfortable at all. But beauty in the discomfort.
Hi Sandy –
I didn’t know trees isolate the damage from the healthy wood, but do not heal. I wonder if that’s true of any other plant life.
Blessings,
Susan 🙂
That’s certainly something to research. Could be a lot of devotional thoughts there. 🙂
Wonder-filled images. Thanks for sharing the wonder of your morning experience in these beautiful words and photos.
Thanks so much, Carol.
Much to love in this piece, dear one. But one of my favorite parts is you sprawled in fallen leaves, with camera in air to ward off 911 callers. 🙂
And isn’t it reassuring to know that we who
are the fallen,
who have drifted,
tumbled,
twirled
been grounded …
that we are among the rescued?
Love your words in this place, my cross-eyed friend.
Dear Jennifer. I love how you took us from fallen to rescued. He doesn’t burn us or put us out with the trash. Love you, girlfriend.