Yesterday's green

Last night the wind blew a

great deal of the remaining leaves from the trees

surrounding our house.

Our yard is inches deep

in yesterday's green.

Soon we will use our leaf blower
to gather them up in piles
and send them whirling down the revine.
Gone.
Discarded.
Forgotten.
If we leave them laying on the ground,
they will rot and our grass will die.

This process is vital to new growth.
In order for new tender green buds to appear
with the warming sun,
the old must be stripped away.
Dead and falling to the ground below,
the old leaf is serving it's
final purpose in the circle of life.


Sometimes I am the wind
blowing strong against the things
that need to fall.
Assisting in the emergence of newness.


Sometimes I am the tree,
being tossed and beaten
until the dead things fall away.
Until I am prepared for
bearing new fruit.

A time or two I have been the leaf,
my influence being pulled from
another for a greater purpose.



I've also been the leaf blower
encouraging another to disguard the dead and rotting
in order to preserve new life.

All four bring a degree of discomfort.
Being a relentless catalyst for change,
being stripped of yesterday's success,
being necessarily removed
for the greater good
or holding the wind steady
long enough for the ground to be free
are all uncomfortable places to be.
All require focused effort,
and all of them are necessary
for new growth.
Each an important process in achieving the next
crop of fruit.
Through pain comes life for
there is no Spring without a Fall.

Rev. 21:5
"Behold, I am making all things new!"

The Trappings of Childhood.....

Most trees don't have names beyond Elm

or Dogwood or Pine.

But ours does.

Most trees don't hold within their branches

the echo of laughter

and the enchantment of childhood,

but ours does.

Most trees aren't marked by

carefully carved proclaimations

of generations of love.

But ours is.

The "Love Tree" isn't just any other tree.

It's ours.

She still stands in an untouched lot with houses built all around her.

She is a symbol that we were there.

That we ran through those woods,

our pigtails trailing behind us

our arms outstretched in the wind.

She still stands

and we still remember

the innocence and wonderment

of our childhood.

Across the woods stands another grouping of trees.

These held no inscriptions of love,

but were the support for our tree house.

My brother Jason and I

spent countless hours hammering nails

into wood and constructing our

magnificent two story tree house.

Our cousins Leah, Scott and Carrie

can also stake a claim here as

they are responsible for more than one nail

in those wooden planks

and more than a million

romps through those woods.

The rope from our swing still

hangs from branches that have grown taller

just as we have.

What a treat it was to retrace the paths of the past

with my brother leading the way.

Rediscovery is one of the best parts of leaving things behind.

Reliving joyful moments is a priceless gift.

As we left Wilson's woods that day

I could almost hear the ferns and ivy calling out to us,

because they were once filled with magic.

"Come back! Be carefree

and get lost in your imagination again!"

I wonder,

how can one stand growing up and leaving

the delight of childhood behind?

The answer is simple:

Embrace the stories of days gone by

and find the best moments to tuck away in your heart

so that you can retell them to your

children and watch their eyes fill with the same

fascination that once captivated you.

In this way,

you will never really grow up

not in your heart.

In the words of Captain Hook:

"Growing up is such barbarous business,

full of inconvenience....

and pimples!"

*

First tree to the right and straight on til morning!