Friday, February 5, 2010
http://www.flickr.com/photos/king-edward/ / CC BY-ND 2.0
One of the best things about winter is that we get to see what trees look like naked.
I know I sound cuckoo, but don't you love to look at them with all their clothes and jewelry thrown to the ground? No frilly leaves, no buds. No distracting colors, except the silver or the browns or the reds of the bark.
There's a huge oak outside my window. It stands in front of the mirror, all its moles and scars exposed, just being who it is underneath. Skin, dry and cracked, arms, crooked and gnarled. Anchored in the earth, enduring the icy rain.
Why do I love this so much?
Does it speak to me because I'm feeling older? I'm not that gnarled yet. :)
Maybe it's one of those universal symbols, something that we see again and again, even existing inside us, under our own skin.
See what I mean?
Have a wonderful weekend, y'all.