A Tree and Me
This week our family is enjoying some time in Tennessee, which for me means a lot of time in the lake looking at the sky. The lake is surrounded by dense trees, thick with birds and cicadas and throbbing with the sounds of nature left to her own devices. Some trees are fluttery and make a gentle sound when the wind picks up. Others are stout and resolute, almost refusing to budge for the breeze. They remind me why I chose a tree to represent the work/play that we do, growing artists.But why a tree and not a flower, with their varied signature petals all colors of the rainbow? Or grass, with its billion blades just waiting for a little water to come back again and again? Trees are confident just doing what they do. Resourceful, growing around and through obstacles natural or of our own making. Generous, sharing of their shade and sweetness. And, here at the lake, friendly, coexisting peacefully and beautifully among so many heterogenous species. They don't quit. They grow up, they grow out and they grow down, connected to the earth.My favorite view at the lake is of a single weeping willow. She lives right next to the dock. She's wise with hundreds of years. She's seen swirling black clouds and rough waters. She's seen laughter and raucous splashing (as long as I can help it.) She's here every time I visit, reminding me to listen with my heart, and I imagine she'll be here long after I.