Thursday, April 11, 2019

Even in death

I  was walking along, through a neighborhood behind the river, and I was feeling large. The birds were all smaller than me, the wee little kitties, the bunnies, the squirrels, even the scrubby springtime shrubs and grasses were dwarfed by my towering five foot six and a half inch frame.

And then I thought of the trees.

When I suddenly thought of myself in the context of all the trees I became small and the world became wonderful. I was walking through a great stage set, a cathedral of a world. I was tiny, amidst wonders. The trees soared into the sky and flung their mad arms out in an elegant and stately chaos. They were everywhere and held the courage not to hide it. They were at one with the ground and they were at one with the heavens.

They were trees and let you know it.

I really like trees.

There was a big pine tree on the golf course that was sick. So the people there cut it down because the golf course has like 20 grounds people and things get taken care of right away. They put what I'm pretty sure was the entire tree through a woodchipper and spit the chewed up tree into a massive six foot high pile, 20 feet long, at the back of their parking lot.

Every day I walk by this mangled tree.

I think maybe the trees are way better than us.

Imagine if you put a dog or a dead person through some kind of powerful blender, and you left it piled up at the back of a parking lot. It would be horrifying. It would be fetid. It would be disgusting. But a tree? I go by every day on my hour walk. It is the highlight of the journey.

Even in death; It smells like heaven.

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