country trees

The trees in my yard are not noble. Sometimes I sit staring at them, noticing how much they could use a good rain, and I wonder if they envy their distant cousins, varieties of maple, beech, or pine, and wish they could wear such blooming veils of leaves, and tickle their neighbors with branches sheathed in such sturdy and supple bark. The trees in my yard are like the people in my town– rugged, hardy, and familiar with drought. They don’t flaunt their elegance, since it can’t be found in the blunt organization of their boughs. They weather the world with a matter-of-fact grimness, like maiden aunts who know their bridal day will never come. But sometimes, when a storm knocks at the horizon and the wind sweeps through like an upstairs maid shaking out the rugs, I catch the trees in my yard laughing to each other, as if to say, “Life is one enormous practical joke, and isn’t our part in it supreme?”

6 responses

  1. Wow. Wow. Wow. You. Paint. Masterpieces. With. Words.
    This is EPIC. !.!

    -Dunvegan Highlander

    April 19, 2011 at 7:13 pm

    • =) Why, thank you! You’re not so clumsy with them yourself.

      April 19, 2011 at 7:28 pm

  2. πŸ˜€ sometimes I think the same way. I watch the tree outside my window and I think of what it might be like for the tree. I think God shows us stuff through them. πŸ™‚


    April 21, 2011 at 11:14 am

    • Yep, you need to come to my house. =)

      April 22, 2011 at 9:11 am

  3. I’m all for it girl! We should plan something…..

    April 23, 2011 at 4:04 pm

  4. Woah. I appreciate your writing. So much. πŸ™‚

    April 24, 2011 at 11:33 am

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