The
old oak stands, two years now leafless. She’s still the signature tree of all
the farm’s timberland and a meditation point for Quiet Garden. Returning visitors who recall her in
full glory are keenly disappointed.
I suggest they sit with her and wait.
We
have lost her cool shade and vibrant colors but are grateful that her starker
beauty provides a perpetual view of sky. She invites us to look for new
patterns that her bare limbs sculpt in every direction. Her naked branches
allow unprecedented observation of birds at work and play. No leaves muffle their
songs.
What creatures seek shelter
in her ever-hollowing core? She’s become a giant switching station over pasture
reverting to savanna. She’s a welcome tower of hospitality for all arrivals
rounding the bend in the drive. She embraces us from the east porch at any
hour- a most trustworthy handhold that never breaks. She’s steadfast even in
death.
