TREE TALES

Kids do the darnest things when they are in the way of behaviour's trouble. A hideout under the bed - the back of the closet behind clothes is always a great hiding place - putting a favorite blankie in a doll suitcase and 'running away' is the story of a few ...at least a trip around the block before they change their mind. As for me..?... well, when I was a kid I headed for the tree south of my farm-home driveway and climbed to the top in about 30 seconds flat! The view from the top was always calming and I felt safe (at least until my hunger got the best of me and I descended to face my punishment). It was in the treetops as a kid with the gently swaying branches that I fell in love with trees. My tree-fascination remains all these years later, though a climb to the top is no longer an option for these 'mature adult' joints of mine.

A couple months ago I sat under the shelter of a tree, resting against its trunk, looking out over the California seascape before me. My spirit roamed. Connectiing with the tree, I was anchored to the earth I love. My fingers curled around the thick grasses, coarser than than the turf back home. The salty sea air brushed my face sending a tingle down my spine. Even on a hot summer California day, a beach breeze brings a cooling that refreshes the weariest of earths' warfaring strangers. How is it that I, this meandering midwestern soul, should find myself at this time and place in life, with a journey before me, unencumbered by responsibilities of yesteryear? Was this always part of a plan? I think of the plaque hanging in my mobile home, gifted by a friend - it declares, "Life is about how you handle Plan B." The singleness of my Plan B is feeling more normal as the days tick off the calendar. This tree I'm attached to ... is it living Plan A or Plan B? Was it intended to grow straight up and branch out evenly? Are its left-leaning branches formed as a result of Plan B - the devastating storm that ripped off its right side, leaving it to repair itself through the years with the uneven scars of a trunk that lacks symmetry. Yet, it thrives - still. Such a great metaphor for life.

The Oregon coast trees bend, curl and chisel in the oddest directions, altered by the unrelenting costal winds. Their foliage stripped away with such repetition that they resemble wire sculptures, fashioned for a gallery of curious onlookers to interpret. These barely breathing towers of sculptural beauty are as varied as the stars in the sky. Battered by nature's fury, their lifeblood seeps away leaving a once glorious tree to its twisted, petrified skeletal state. Even now, as I re-live my day's journey on the Orgeon costal highway of a month ago, the artist in me delights in the 30-second peek at these beauties as my RV motored through the fog. The great white blanket of mist drifted down and vanished in ghostly fashion. Oregon pleasures live on in my memories.

Trees sacrifice themselves without intention. Shelter for us human-folk are among the devouring lions. The great rainforests south of the equator are disappearing, sacrificed for the cause of beef-eating human carnivores. Therein lies a much larger story on the eating preferences of the world's population. The green movement has made great strides in the past decade, restoring some hope for our grandchildren and the generations to come. Tree replanting, sometimes with human intention and sometimes through the course of nature's regenerational habits inspires me. My 'Yellowstone in a Day' journey a number of weeks back enlightened me to the miracles of nature. The great Yellowstone fires of the 1980's wiped out roughly 40% of its forest. Viewing the thriving new green terrain gave this nature-girl hope for tomorrow's forests, worldwide.

It is fall in Minnesota. I walked today on the trails of a nature reserve I frequented in my life of a decade earlier. The leaves are turning. The smells of autumn fill the air. I kick at the fallen leaves and relish the moment. Sunshine floods my face and I hear the birds. Raising my arms and a Mary Tyler Moore twirl (without the hat), I stride to my Mr. P, smiling at natures beauty. God has done a 'bang-up job' with nature today. Life - such a gift.

Regeneration, whether inward or outward, in nature or in nurture of our souls, brings vitality to life. A seed, a bud, sunshine and rain, a flower for our tomorrows.

Intothewind-

with NatureGirl.