A sun and sky photo shoot at the Jesuit Center

Sunlight and Clouds: 1 at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville PA by Wayne Stratz

On a splendid spring day I took my Earth and Space students outside and told them to look up at the clouds. Fifteen minutes later the class period was over. It meant something to some of them who told me they were now checking out clouds.

When I am on Silent retreats I allow myself more time to look up and use my camera to try to preserve that moment in time. These were my favorite three from one particular photo shoot.

look up.

Sunlight and Clouds: 2 at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville PA by Wayne Stratz

Sunlight and Clouds: 3 at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville PA by Wayne Stratz

Reflections from the Jesuit Center: after discovering the nonexistant gate, a walk back up the hill

On the grounds of the Jesuit Center, Wernersville PA, 2015 by Wayne Stratz

After discovering the gate was not where it was supposed to be, and being told where it was by the passing by Jesuit; I had to walk back up the hill to the Jesuit Center.

Five images have survived the purge of photos taken on that walk up the hill. The first is a celebration of a lush evergreen botanical life.  The second photo shows the ravages of an aging leaf. The summer is early but the great vibrancy of a springtime leafing Maple has moved on to leaves showing the signs of a hard life.

On the grounds of the Jesuit Center, Wernersville PA, 2015 by Wayne Stratz

 Then there was this Maple seed. A sign of hope. One could say, "a dashed hope" as it rests on the macadam driveway at the Jesuit Center, but a tree could still emerge. Who knows where that seed could travel to if forces lifted it up?

On the grounds of the Jesuit Center, Wernersville PA, 2015 by Wayne Stratz

It sure was a wet June this 2015, after a dry springtime. Talks of drought were gone and fungi were sending up their fruiting bodies. And like the Maple leaf, it captures my destination in the background.

On the grounds of the Jesuit Center, Wernersville PA, 2015 by Wayne Stratz

I am no bird photographer and my camera is really, really not up for the job, so when I got home with hundreds of silent photos, this Blue Jay delighted me. I knew it was there. I had hope that it was in the frame. I clicked. Hopefully in the next moment it would be nourished by a leaf eating insect on this Maple tree.

On the grounds of the Jesuit Center, Wernersville PA, 2015 by Wayne Stratz

Poetic feet selfie #3 ~~~ Our Family Tree By Joseph Cephas Holly

Our Family Tree

By Joseph Cephas Holly (1825-1855)

On the death of my sister Cecilia—the last of five members of the family, who died successively.

Our family tree is in the sear

And yellow leaf of life;

Branch after branch, year after year,

Yields to death’s pruning knife.

First, youngest born, as if ’twere meet,

The sacrifice should be,

"The last of earth," the first to meet

Th’ unknown eternity.

’Twas God who gave, ’twas He who took,

His voice let us obey,

So that in his eternal book,

Our names shine bright as day.

Source: African-American Poetry of the Nineteenth Century: An Anthology (University of Illinois Press, 1992)

 

 

 

 

Trees are amazing; exploring the path of water

Negative pressures. Avoiding spontaneous boiling. Surmounting great heights. And ever wasteful but important because of the waste. Love the enthusiasm shown for the splendid nature of plants.

 

a Trio of Tree Quilts: Gloria Loughman, Beth Miller, Noriko Matsutro

Tonight I blogged about a mosaic tree over here,
so I thought I would celebrate quilt trees here...

Gloria Loughman / The Baobab Trees of Madagascar / Australia 20" x 30"

Beth Miller / The Drought /
Kambah ACT, Australia / 35" x 59"
 

Noriko Matsutou / Cherry Blossoms in the Full Moon / Toyama-shi, Japan / 39" x 40"

Willow Weep For Me (b) ~> Renée Yoxon sings

Eventually I emerged from the tree, but I continued to spend time with the tune as my silent retreat unfolded. Turned out I had several versions on my iPod but only one with vocals. I was not disappointed.

Renée Yoxon sings it beautifully. LISTEN HERE

Willow weep for me

Bend your branches down along the ground

and cover me

 

NO WORDS! celebrating a Dogwood Tree

... ... ...

Wordlessly hanging out with Bobo Stenson in the woods

Wordlessly inside the Wernersville Tree (part b)

Inside the Wernersville Tree

Above is the first photo from within the tree, which I showed as I approached it on a previous post.  The trip to this tree and then inside the tree is the only time I used my camera while on the silent retreat:

on a branch at eye level

After the Ugly Oyster, a new beginning for silence

Wernersville Tree ~ as I approached 

Having left the arts and crafts pub in Reading, it was a direct route to the Jesuit Center but a road not yet travelled.  I would be filled with thoughts of riches and poverty and how crossing one boundary can lead to such radical changes as I simply drove out of Reading into West Reading.  Do people drive this everyday? Do they get used to it?

The brain will get used to silence.  Thirty hours in I woke up and felt it.  I had made the transition.

I am not a fan of superlatives... Questions like who is your favorite band can baffle me.  I used to be able to say I never read a lot on retreats.  But I fell into the writings of (let me be safe here) one of the most influential authors in my life, Frederick Buechner.  

I came across his book The Clown in The Belfry as I weeded my bookcase of spiritual writings recently.  It is a collection of essays and sermons thrown together for the sake of making a book.  Not my most favorite thing.  But I hadn't read it.  

It proved to be a path into the many ways he has influenced my faith.  By the time I woke up 30 hours into the retreat, I realized that I only had three chapters left.  It made sense ~  one for that morning and one each for the last two mornings of the retreat.  I could not have planned it better.

As I look back at the book, I see that the last essay I read, before I woke up feeling the silence, had ended with this paragraph.  And this may be the coolest thing ever ~ 

Let us instead tell a story which is the story about every one of us,  It is a story about a pig, and a fox, and an ass under his holy and appalling burden.  It is the story about a mouth pushed crooked, about a voice breaking.  Let the rest be Christ's silence.

Wernersville Tree ~ about to step inside

Meeting a tree

Longwood Gardens, where a Beech helped me to stretch.
photo by Margaret Almon

The woman ducks into the tree.  Yes, that is what happened.  I was in the land of silence for a day and as I emerged from the Jesuit Center I saw a woman gently move the weeping branches so that she could venture into the tree.

How many times have I not looked closely at this wonderful tree I ask myself?  As I walk by the tree, I see the woman has climbed it.   I note this as marvelous and keep walking.  As I return the woman is emerging from the tree and I am moved to not be silent.  I approach her, apologize for my lack of silence, and thank her for introducing me to the tree.  It is clear that she loves the tree.

I draw a card for the woman who ducks into trees.  I include our business car so that she can connect if she so desires.

The next morning I duck into the tree.  Weeks pass.

I got an e-mail from the woman who ducks into trees and it inspired me to put together a set of photos of some trees I have met along the way.  Some are at Wernersville (I did not have my camera to take a photo of the weeping tree, but I will be back), many are Dogwoods, but not the one that graced my front yard when I was a child and teen.  But Dogwoods surround me.  My neighbor's stretches out to me when I walk down my porch steps.  At work one is the centerpiece of the largest flower garden my students and I maintain, and at church one greets me whenever I walk down the block.

Feel free to introduce me to a tree.  It makes my day more splendid.

wordless Wednesday: looking up, looking down digging the Sycamore

Wordless Wednesday: standing inside a tree

X is for xylem

why was it that for years I knew that trees got water from their root?

And then I knew that the water traveled by tubes called xylem, and that these tubes made up what we call wood and are responsible for the annual rings.

But why did I never ask... How does the water travel up the xylem?

short answer: it is pulled by the air outside the leaves

longer answer