T is for Tree Views

This photo showed up in my Oregon post this past Wednesday. It's back

I remember the amazement of coming across this scene. and that may be the best way to view it.

But I also have to wonder about the force it took for the water to place it there. The reoded hillside says more about that force. I wonder how intertidal critters have reacted to a tree being thrown into their space. Where did it die? What current brought it to this beach? Was it a storm or just a normal high tide that lifted it up.

And what would an artist make of this. How many other lifted cameras. What would happen if one lifted a brush to paint it on canvas? And a poet, essayist, or story teller would create what if that sat down and lifted their pencils to the scene.

But it is Easter and I am thinking about the spiritual force needed to lift up all men and women.

May scientific, artistic, and spiritual folk continue to see this world and share their responses with me.

And of course one must consider jazz too:

ahh, may your dreams tonight be filled with trees...



...

Eternal life in the secret garden

Folk at work look at my long hair and assume things, so I often find myself joking with them about a hidden greenhouse back in the woods. Good luck trying to find what doesn't exist.

Some folk would say the same for eternal life, and even those who believe it is possible may have only rare moments of really believing all the way down through their gut to their toes.

Over the years I have heard many a book review on NPR, and now I can say that I have read one of those books. It was several weeks ago when I heard a review of The Secret Garden by Francis Hodgson Burnett. One day while my science students were in the school library, I thought of it.

It proved to be an enjoyable read. This quote which starts the 21st chapter caught my attention and I have wanted to blog about it ever since. Hope you enjoy it. Hope it makes you think of times when you were so in awe, you could...


" One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands alone and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in some one's eyes....... "


READ OR LISTEN TO THE REVIEW by Sloane Crosley