Sunday, May 4, 2014

reflective tree

We headed south last week, leaving the bare trees and mud behind for a bit, and watched the spring emerge along the way.  First forsythia and then dandelions along the highway medians.  I hoped to see the trees in bloom once we got to Washington DC.  And we did.  

They were lovely and fragrant and I kept thinking about honeybees and commenting on how there should be hives on the National Mall.  

And then, needing a break from the walking, we happened upon the Sculpture Garden on the Mall.  And this tree.  One tree looked bare and more like home than any other there.

Graft, by Roxy Paine

It reminded me of Sylvia, back at home, gnarly and curvy and old. And bare.  And of the differences between home and where we were.  And how soon the Spring that was there would be coming to our home.  And the bare branches would be filled again.  

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