Today I am in New Orleans and we went to go see the Tree of Life. It was planted in 1740.
It got me thinking about all the things that have happened around this tree. How many people have walked all the way around it like I did? How many have stood in-front of it and got their pictures taken as I did today? How many kids played under its shade? How many lovers kissed for the first time here? Did people get married under this tree? How many picnics? Dogs? How many squirrels have climbed this tree? How many flowers have been laid at its roots as I saw today? How many hugs? How many people have stoped to take a rest under this tree?
As you can see I am a curiously sort. All these questions are swimming in me because today under that tree thinking about all these different things I felt oddly connected to each one of them. I felt like we all belong to each other now, held together by this beautiful, strong, elder of a tree.
Also as I looked at its big roots bulging out of the ground I wondered what this tree looked like underground and I thought of the saying, “When your roots are deep the wind don’t mean shit.” Lol. I thought about the people who have intentionally cared for this tree over the years and the ones who have mistreated it. I could see myself in both.
But mostly today I was grateful to have been able to witness such a thing and hoped that I could be more like this tree. Not 281 years old but strong, steadfast, flexible when the wind blows, able to weather a storm, a resting place for others, and glowing in my own magnificent glory under the warmth of the sun.
Quanita
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