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Happy Birthday to you...
Happy Birthday to all my trees...
Happy Spring Birthday to you...
I have a thing about trees. I like to watch them transform and change throughout the seasons. I like to listen to the birch trees whisper in the dark.
Trees are mathematically pleasing.
A combined randomness and a steadying symmetry that soothes me.
Keep me centered in time and space.
A combined randomness and a steadying symmetry that soothes me.
Keep me centered in time and space.
Some trees are planted on purpose. For maximum growing potential in complimentary weather zones. For fruit or shade or beauty. Others are seeded in the ground, by the whimsy of the wind. They grow in shade or sun, alone or encircled by members of their own family, or adopted by a field of strangers. A pine nestled between a cluster of oaks. A birch leaning upward beside a towering elm.
The young trees bend and sway, move and snap back into shape unfazed by the whims of the weather, while elder alders lose branches, creak and moan when abused.
But in the Spring, no matter the age, their leaves bud into limey green. Slowly, tenderly uncurl under the warmth of the sun and the spring rains.
I love Spring best. It’s a front row seat in a packed house for a tree fancier like me. To see their skeletal outlines in the night, as they emerge into morning light and the colours return. The infinitesimal change, right at the end of their fingertips, like a magical manicure. Tiny green shoots. Trees take on a new shape, one I can imagine. I can take out my colored pencils and sketch in their forms.
Like a sonogram, at first just a shape, a rhyming rhythm, a familiar beat until the details emerge from behind the shadows. Fingernails, spine, toes. Eyelashes and belly buttons. The characteristics of life.
A new beginning.
I am busy, here, writing cards. Birthday cards to my trees.
Birthday cards to you, wherever new life is incubating.
On this your big day, your let’s blow out the candle day, I wish you little joys.
The tiny details we overlook in the rush of life.
May your day be filled with a multitude of moments to fill your calendar until next year.
The tiny details we overlook in the rush of life.
May your day be filled with a multitude of moments to fill your calendar until next year.
You know the candle you never can seem to blow out on the cake?
That’s me.
When you are ready, the rest of your life is awaiting your presence...
With applause for a job well done.
Happy Birthday
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