Time With A Tree

Back in August, when our realtor showed us the house we’re living in now, my husband and I requested a second look the next day just to check out the back yard. The on-line photos of the property clearly displayed a shed, however, none of the three of us had seen a shed as we looked from the deck toward the creek that borders the lot. All we noticed was the variety of overgrown trees, shrubs, and plants; beautiful, but needing some TLC or maybe some tough love.

With late Summer’s surrender to Autumn, now beginning to give way to frosty cold, has come a new view of the shed, traffic passing beyond the creek’s opposite bank, and sunsets. We have been blessed with a very warm early November and the gorgeous sight of changing Maple leaves from our kitchen window, just as promised by the previous owner, the one who gave the trees free reign.

Still waiting for professional help with the landscaping and trees, I have been spending sunny afternoons on our deck, happy to seat visiting friends six feet from me and facing the fabulous fall foliage. Our two Maple trees surprised us by changing color one after the other, the second one still holding onto some leaves today as those from the first sit in six large paper bags in our garage.

I filled those bags. It was 75 degrees out and a joy to rake and bag the soft golden leaves on Monday afternoon knowing that Dave would be surprised. It was a lot of work, and I slept well that night.

Today, I spent some time with the second Maple tree, beginning with the goal of cleaning up the yard, leaving few enough leaves for Dave to handle with the lawn mower tomorrow. It was cooler today, and my ankle was hurting, but the growing piles of colorful Maple leaves captured my memory and imagination, bringing to mind days long gone when Dad would rake so many leaves in our front yard and we would play in them together with the neighbor kids, making forts, jumping into piles with joy, later watching and smelling the leaves burn in our driveway.

Sometimes we would gather some especially pretty leaves and Mom would help us press them between sheets of waxed paper, a fun craft that prolonged Autumn’s beauty in the face of deathly cold winter. I thought about pressing some leaves today and kept setting aside my rake to pick up a leaf of a different color or size or to take a photo of the beauty around, below, and above me.

And as I did the work – painful, but possible – I thought about the great joy that is in our family today. My nephew and his wife gave birth to a baby girl yesterday, bestowing the title Grandpa Pfeiffer on my brother, giving Mom her first great-grandchild, and calling their little daughter Oakley. I smiled thinking about how she will be raised in the country, a simple life full of learning and fun, of playing with dogs and jumping in leaves and being loved by all of us.

This morning I opened my Bible to continue the Daily Readings I told you about HERE, the first words from Psalm 9 gave me purpose for today.

I will praise you, O Lord, with all my heart;

I will tell of all your wonders.

Among His wonders are my ability in spite of lingering nerve damage to rake and bag leaves, the glorious beauty of trees and sky, sunrises and sunsets, and the amazing birth of a new person. Welcome, Oakley.

ALL OF THESE LEAVES FELL FROM THE SAME TREE

 

TREES
by Alfred Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.