Mother Nature Rises Above Its Raising But Remembers Its Roots

This photo came up today in my memories and it told me that we should rise above our raising while remembering our roots. We grow to be our biggest and best if we can see over our family lineage and evolve beyond the deeper layers. We need to dig deep and turn over the past to do that.

That can be difficult to do as we are busy building our lives when we’re young. It’s only with the raising of our own seedlings and the empty-nest they leave in our branches and the retirement of busy that we can start to see how well we did or didn’t do with our rising and soaring to new heights.

It’s only when we have the time and silence to sit under our own canopy that we get to decide whether it’s the leaves that made us beautiful or if it’s our barrenness.

I was once a lush green tree, full of green and colorful dangling leaves that twirled in the wind. They turned vibrant reds and golds and were my crowning glory. My reasons for living. They made me feel beautiful. But, they fell to the ground in the Fall. They made sounds like a crackling fire as they played at my feet but blew away in the four winds.

I am a barren tree now. My lush foliage is off building their own forests and deepening their roots in different landscapes. My bark is worn and my branches gnarly. I stand, but not so tall anymore. I’m bent and stiff, not easily swayed; concentrated, wise. I stand firm knowing I have given my everything.

Someday, when my seedlings are thick at their trunks, bifurcated and firmly rooted in the ground, when they are leafless and their parts have long been blown away in the wind, and time has slowed, I hope they take time to contemplate their own evolution under the shade of what they’ve built. And, when they look back over their own family lineage, I hope they see me —standing as tall as I possibly can, smiling up at them. I hope they are happy to acknowledge me, and consider me one of their most adoring fun fans and original sources of who they’ve grown up to be.

If I have but one leaf left, I will wave hello. Maybe even flip them a bird.