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my last post was on tuesday, 3-21-23— i thought it was such a cool date because i love palindromes and i thought this one was extra cool because it was a countdown and a get set! all rolled together
we had a terrible storm here that day
i got an alert for dangerous wind and then richard, a fellow artist here in building 3, told me he had brought my sign in from the street— it had blown over, the arrow was broken off and it was all battered :(
but that wasn’t even close to the worst that happened that day
the storm was all cleared up on wednesday and i headed over to the schwan lake open space for my afternoon walk with finny
I was walking one of the side trails through the far meadow, admiring the sun through the new spring leaves on the oak trees, but something wasn’t looking right
because something wasn’t right— something was irretrievably not right
the matriarch had fallen— this gorgeous, gorgeous huge tree with so much presence and grace had split in two
it was like a body blow— i couldn’t really wrap my head around it— but i think of course her life would change direction so momentously on such a unique date— the first day of one of the hundreds of springs she has witnessed and gifted with her bounty of greenery, growth and generosity
in the first days after it happened there were good numbers of folks around her whenever i was there
i brought two of my tree clooties and draped one on each side of her recumbent form
there are less crowds now— people are moving on into acceptance
and she is moving on into this new phase with no less calm dignity than she stood with for all the uncounted days she has lived— she is so much more accessible now— the dogs and kids can run right up onto her— you can really get close to her branches to wrap your arms around her and hug her— you can whisper into her canopy where before only the birds and squirrels could— you can learn something about “leaning in”, as they say, to the hard things
i am offering a tree mother workshop at the end of this month to make tree clooties and we will visit her on our lunch break— check it out on my events page
the only thing for certain in life is change— this change was a rough event for me at first— but i’m trying to be like her and figure out how to “lean in” to my next things— which in the most general sense is more change— but more specifically i feel like we have a lot more in common now!— we have both been torn asunder from the way we used to live and are in process of learning how to live differently with our new normal
one side of her will surely keep growing with roots still firmly in the ground— the other side maybe not, just like me— but we can’t keep carrying everything all our days— part of life is learning how to let go of what you lose so you can keep moving forward
her sister tree nearby lost a huge limb three years ago— she is still standing, growing and there to support her sibling— she can say to her, “i know it hurts at first but you will heal as best you can— we are still here together to live another spring!— so let’s enjoy the sun while it shines, the stars as they sparkle and the laughter of children and the joy of the dogs— it is still a beautiful world and we are still a part of it!”
3-22-23— another palindrome :) 4pm
one of the tree clooties i offered to her— someone “borrowed” this one— i still hope it will be returned to her and all of us who love her
