Tuesday, July 30, 2013

The Tree by the River


The Tree by the River

The morning started out a bit melancholy. I wandered through the park, sometimes on the path, sometimes off. I enjoyed the company of the flowers and the birds. I walked for a long while until finally I can upon a large maple tree growing on the bank of the river. Its branches hanging like arms over the softly flowing water and its roots exposed by years of erosion. I sat at the trunk of this tree for a bit and watched the water drift by. I listened to the birds and the other people in the park as they jogged and rode by on their bicycles.
 When the sun peeked out from behind the the clouds I could see its rippled reflection in the underside of my companions leaves. I sat for a long while and let my thoughts drift. Questions came to mind, “Where am I? Why am I here? What do I want?” I placed my hand on a knotted root exposed and jutting out from the ground to my right. I though this strong and beautiful tree had been there far longer then I and had endured. She must have some wisdom to offer, and she did.
 I asked aloud “What advice can you give me? I am tired and full of doubt.”
 Without hesitation she replied, in the only way trees know how to speak, “Look at my roots. Many are bare and exposed but still I stand strong. Sometimes it feels as though the ground is being washed out right from under me. In those times. I hold on as tight as possible. I dig my roots deeper and stand my ground.”
 She offered no further advice... no half hearted words of encouragement. Just her experience which she would leave me to interpret as I saw fit.

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