I’m at home among the trees. They are the old and the wise of the earth. Their music lightens me. Their wildness reassures me. Their geometry comforts me. A tree knows me without words. All is well when I’m beside a tree.
In every season, trees offer beauty. In winter, they show their secret ways. Their wounds and their healings. Their false starts and their perfect ideas. So clear is the story of creating. No right or wrong. Just the putting forth, every day, to reach wholeness.
You never know where you’ll happen upon a beautiful tree. I found this one in the middle of an empty parking lot. Rising up from a reprieve, unencumbered by neighbors, it grows into its own elegance.
And this tree offered me in the middle of winter an unexpected fruit: a lesson in intention. For days now, I notice trees everywhere. Not just those growing in plain air, but the many images and renditions inside my own home: stitched in fabric, carved in wood, watercolored on canvas. How different each live tree. How unique each interpretation.
The Tree in the Parking Lot said, A beautiful tree can be found anywhere. And it has been true. It only takes stillness and intention. It only takes a slowing and an opening. The human eye has many lids.
May you set an intention this week—a color, such as purple, or a shape, such as that of a canoe, or a natural object, like a pear—and may you discover how a beautiful version of your intention can be found anywhere.