It seemed fitting that the mountain goat would be at the top of the tree. Click on first photo to enlarge all.
It seemed fitting that the mountain goat would be at the top of the tree. Click on first photo to enlarge all.
Palm trees, hibiscus, bamboo and pistachio tree. Remove them from this scene and what would you have? Trees are both the life and the decorations of our world. They soften harsh edges as well as some of the ugliness of our world. They give us breath, shade and shelter, food and some of the sweetness of life. They provide homes for birds and other animals and a foundation for our westward expansion.
But most of all, for me, they give a place for my eyes to rest upon that assures me that whatever ills men may promulgate upon other men, that nature remains constant. It is not that it does not change, but within the larger cycle, all is constant, as it is in our human cycle. What we see as good and evil take their turns in ascendancy, but still, we return at some part of this cycle to the norm. The success of our lives has to do with how hard we work to maintain the norm in our own lives, in spite of what is happening in the larger cycles.
This is what I think of when I look at trees. For fourteen years, I lived surrounded by Redwood Trees. They were there before I was born and will hopefully be there after I die. Taller and older than us, if they had a consciousness, they could see the larger picture. Our world is a living thing that regards us as a symbiotic partner or a bothersome pest. It is up to us which we become.



Wish I knew the story of this ancient one that stands in the marketplace near the river in Puerto Vallarta. I believe it is a banyan tree, but I am open to being corrected.
https://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2016/11/20/sunday-trees-262/

How sparse does a tree have to get before it ceases to be a tree and becomes a branch?
https://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2016/11/06/sunday-trees-5th-year/

Treed
Stuck here in this cul-de-sac,
my mental skills are out of whack,
and I don’t seem to have the knack
for learning lessons as I look back.
I’m tortured as if on the rack.
My muscles wrench and joints all crack
my loosening bones go click clack clack.
With prospects dim, my soul is black.
Value in life is what I lack.
My life’s comprised of bric-a-brac.
I circle round and round the track,
until I’ve lost my will to quack.
Then
I
give
up
and
join
the
pack.
The prompt word today is “trust.” It may not be obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word today, but actually it has everything to do with trusting yourself and your own unique views of life and to resist “losing your quack” and settling back into being like everyone else. The narrator of this poem is not me. It is only who I am determined not to become.
Since both the illustration and the shape of the poem are trees, I think it is also appropriate for Becca’s Sunday Tree Challenge.

Looks like autumn is approaching Prince Edward Island.
https://beccagivens.wordpress.com/2016/10/02/sunday-trees-255/