Misc. Musings about Cedars and Such
Sunday, January 15, 2006
The sunrise this morning is especially lovely for there are clouds. The magnificence of the sun alone is somewhat blinding but with the addition of a few clouds to diffuse the sun’s radiance, there is beauty ever changing with the movement of the clouds.
There are lots of birds about this morning. They seem to like the berries which are blue in some of what I call cedars. I think they may be juniper trees. I am unfamiliar with the names of a lot of nature about me. There are birds, trees, grasses, shrubs, and insects that I did not see in the city. But I suppose knowing their names is rather unimportant.
I like the word cedar. It sounds sturdy and to the point. What I called cedar back in the city was an evergreen tree/shrub that hugged the ground and spread out fat-like. But what are called cedars here are tall, pointed evergreens with no growth at the bottom and with beautiful bark that looks like it could be unraveled like ribbon until no trunk would be left and the branches would simply collapse. The birds like the cedars for they provide food and shelter throughout the seasons.
There are hickory, walnut, sweet gum, dogwood, oaks, and pines here to name a few I know. I’ve been told that spring here is a spectacular display of white blossoms when the dogwoods are in bloom. That is the only season that I’ve not yet witnessed here at Stepping Stones.
Each season brings its own surprises. The emphasis on beauty shifts with each season. Now, in the middle of winter, I enjoy admiring the dark skeletons of the deciduous trees against the backdrop of winter’s blue-grey skies. And the delight of the day is the honking of ducks and geese (I think that’s what they are) as they make their daily flight circling the lake. When first I heard them, I thought it was the sound of gruff voices of arguing men.
But the mainstay of all the seasons I’ve witnessed seems to be the dark green of the cedars adorned with the red of the male cardinal and that special brown tone of the female. All of this displayed upon the scenery provided by the sky with its ever changing nature, the lake whose colors depend upon what it reflects at the moment, and the ever present East Texas sand.
Last night I was homesick for my home of twenty-five years back in the city. There I raised my two children. Perhaps the homesickness was really nostalgia for a season gone by when they were young and were my fledglings. Now, of course, they have made homes of their own with their spouses. But what I feel is not empty nest sadness, it is a need to feel the comfort of a former season of life when I knew they were safe, happy and secure tucked away in their beds for a refreshing night’s sleep. So today I will call them and know that they are secure and happy as when they were under my care. And I will let them know of the love I feel for each of them, though in my heart I know they do. My love is the mainstay of the seasons of my life against which change occurs. For one of the defining moments in my life was the pleasure of becoming a mother. And the unconditional love that accompanied that moment was the most important adornment of my “four seasons”. Whey they came into being and made me a mother, they taught me the meaning of love. For like the radiance of the sun, it never disappears no matter what the season.
I soon shall be 63 years of age. When I look back over my life, it’s not the number of years I have lived that is important but it’s the defining moments that I cherish; moments that cover the whole spectrum of human feelings. When I was very young, I thought that with a certain age one became wise and knew all that there was to know about life, and then one had wisdom, grew a little older, and died.
But now, I think aging is like the Four Seasons and I relive each season as I age until my final winter comes. During the course of a day, I may experience the joy of youth, the maturity of adulthood, the sagacity of being senior, and the peace and serenity of the elderly. Which season is my favorite? Oooh, I’m not sure for just as I think I’ve found it; the season changes and I choose that one.
The sunrise this morning is especially lovely for there are clouds. The magnificence of the sun alone is somewhat blinding but with the addition of a few clouds to diffuse the sun’s radiance, there is beauty ever changing with the movement of the clouds.
There are lots of birds about this morning. They seem to like the berries which are blue in some of what I call cedars. I think they may be juniper trees. I am unfamiliar with the names of a lot of nature about me. There are birds, trees, grasses, shrubs, and insects that I did not see in the city. But I suppose knowing their names is rather unimportant.
I like the word cedar. It sounds sturdy and to the point. What I called cedar back in the city was an evergreen tree/shrub that hugged the ground and spread out fat-like. But what are called cedars here are tall, pointed evergreens with no growth at the bottom and with beautiful bark that looks like it could be unraveled like ribbon until no trunk would be left and the branches would simply collapse. The birds like the cedars for they provide food and shelter throughout the seasons.
There are hickory, walnut, sweet gum, dogwood, oaks, and pines here to name a few I know. I’ve been told that spring here is a spectacular display of white blossoms when the dogwoods are in bloom. That is the only season that I’ve not yet witnessed here at Stepping Stones.
Each season brings its own surprises. The emphasis on beauty shifts with each season. Now, in the middle of winter, I enjoy admiring the dark skeletons of the deciduous trees against the backdrop of winter’s blue-grey skies. And the delight of the day is the honking of ducks and geese (I think that’s what they are) as they make their daily flight circling the lake. When first I heard them, I thought it was the sound of gruff voices of arguing men.
But the mainstay of all the seasons I’ve witnessed seems to be the dark green of the cedars adorned with the red of the male cardinal and that special brown tone of the female. All of this displayed upon the scenery provided by the sky with its ever changing nature, the lake whose colors depend upon what it reflects at the moment, and the ever present East Texas sand.
Last night I was homesick for my home of twenty-five years back in the city. There I raised my two children. Perhaps the homesickness was really nostalgia for a season gone by when they were young and were my fledglings. Now, of course, they have made homes of their own with their spouses. But what I feel is not empty nest sadness, it is a need to feel the comfort of a former season of life when I knew they were safe, happy and secure tucked away in their beds for a refreshing night’s sleep. So today I will call them and know that they are secure and happy as when they were under my care. And I will let them know of the love I feel for each of them, though in my heart I know they do. My love is the mainstay of the seasons of my life against which change occurs. For one of the defining moments in my life was the pleasure of becoming a mother. And the unconditional love that accompanied that moment was the most important adornment of my “four seasons”. Whey they came into being and made me a mother, they taught me the meaning of love. For like the radiance of the sun, it never disappears no matter what the season.
I soon shall be 63 years of age. When I look back over my life, it’s not the number of years I have lived that is important but it’s the defining moments that I cherish; moments that cover the whole spectrum of human feelings. When I was very young, I thought that with a certain age one became wise and knew all that there was to know about life, and then one had wisdom, grew a little older, and died.
But now, I think aging is like the Four Seasons and I relive each season as I age until my final winter comes. During the course of a day, I may experience the joy of youth, the maturity of adulthood, the sagacity of being senior, and the peace and serenity of the elderly. Which season is my favorite? Oooh, I’m not sure for just as I think I’ve found it; the season changes and I choose that one.
posted by Sandra | 10:35 AM
2 Comments:
How lovely :-)
How beautiful! I couldn't feel luckier to have been part of the most fulfilling aspect of your life! And even more, I can't wait to share anecdotes of motherhood with you!! :-D
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