It's about the tree

Corner of NW 9th & Couch, through the window of the Pearl Bakery.

I blipped recently about making art by scribbling.
In journaling as well, I often end up writing what I didn't know I thought.
I enjoy the mystery and then the discovery.

This seems to be true in photography also.
What the camera sees and what I see can be quite different.

When I took this shot, the tree was "in the way" and I mentally edited it out.
But when I looked at the image I saw that it was really about the tree.

With the fallen acacia so beautifully captured by freespiral still fresh in my mind,
this morning I passed the site of the tree removal near St. Philip's
and was stunned to see the old giant reduced to a flat stump a few inches high.

What do street trees mean to you?
Is there anything you would like to say to this tree?

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Here's a poem I wrote about trees half a lifetime ago.

"Christ the Good Gardener"

[written on the day of my baptism]

Now that you have planted me in you
and you in me,
grow me, Lord.
Grow me like a tree.

For you I'd gladly be
a good olive or a good fig,
a palm to praise you
or a thorn for your crown.
Lord, grow me.
Like a seed that has died
I wait to be grown.


If I could I'd be a redwood,
for they persevere--
renewed by fire,
patient in drought.
Bedrock roots them,
heaven sustains them.
"Glory," they whisper
to all who hear,
year after year after year.

Grow me as you will, Lord.
For you I'd be a blade of grass
waving as you pass,
bowing as I kiss your feet
to bless you and be blessed.

Not as I will but as you would,
but if I could
I'd hope to be a redwood
and withstand the test.