MY TREES AND ME

The clock on my night table told me it was 4:30 A.M.. I lay in bed for a moment, gazing out through the wide, glass French doors, letting my mind slowly come back to earth. My bedroom is situated high up on the east side of the house, affording a splendid view of four tall, beautiful trees; their bushy tops stretching up into the sky. It’s the last thing I see at night, and the first thing in the morning. Even if it is dark outside, the garage spotlight, strategically placed, allows the luxury of this awesome sight. It is one part of why I end and begin each day with a heartfelt ‘Thank You!”.

I could see the tree tops swaying wildly, much as they do when a storm rolls in. I frowned. Hadn’t the Weather Network predicted two nice, sunny days for the weekend? What was this? I had no sooner finished the thought when the movement stopped. Everything became still. I waited, watching….Minutes passed, but the stillness remained. Wondering, I got out of bed and padded over to the doors to get a better look. The sky was dark but clear, the stars quite visible. No clouds, no sign of wind. Puzzled, I stood there, staring out at the trees. Had I imagined it? No, I didn’t think so. It was too real.

Have you ever experienced moments when a sight, or a sound, triggers a memory so profound that all you can do is accept it? All of a sudden I saw myself as a child, standing at my bedroom window, much the same as I was doing now.

The child-me, with her vivid imagination, had named every tree surrounding the old farmhouse where we lived. They were my friends, and I endowed each of them with character traits; most of the cedars lining the driveway were motherly and kind, except for one whose branches resembled a grouchy old man…and that he was! The birches with slim white trunks and lighter green leaves were all flirty dancers – the first to bend and sway when Mr. Wind showed up. The Maples were somewhat clannish, but most friendly to the birds, and the majestic Firs were mysterious and wise; their sound in the wind telling stories as old as time itself. I never went to bed without going to the window and saying goodnight to my friends, calling them each by name, wishing them a calm night, or warning them to stand strong when we could feel an approaching storm. Each morning I would speak to them again, and I could sense their chorus of “Good morning!” in response. Except for the grouchy old man, but I knew he loved me in his own way, so I would smile at him none the less.

My vision this morning lasted all of ten seconds, but it was enough. Now there was no need to speculate on what had made my trees move, because the reason was clear. They were wishing me “Good Morning!”. Appreciating the greeting, and the flashback that helped me understand, I smiled and bowed to them in turn. It WAS going to be a gorgeous sunny day, and I know we will all enjoy it. Life is good.

I’m off to the office for a couple of hours, so sending you all a big smile and wishes for a great day!


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.