Timeframe of event: July early 2000s...
As I slept under the stars at an overlook...
The Saddle on the Blue Ridge Parkway...
***
I came here angry this evening
And the old bare tree which no longer bares leaves
Meets me
As she always does
She has stood here for decades
On the east side of The Saddle
Where the sun rises
The wind blows and blows
But she doesn't move with the wind
For she is old and no longer flexible
But neither does the wind break her
She is twisted and gnarled by the winds of these mountains
Some may call her ugly
But even through my anger
I momentarily notice her beauty
Yet my anger is stronger than my notice-of-her
Anger at husband and children
Anger at feeling used
Anger at the illness that wracks my body
And the old tree is sad
Sad that I don't embrace her beauty, her sacredness
My anger prevents me in its moment
But she does not retaliate; it is not her way
Instead, she witnesses my anger as I pull out the camping lounge chair
From the back of my green Dodge Caravan
And set it up between her and the vehicle
Huffing and puffing and cussing at life
As she watches
She asks her friends, the trees
To blow away my cells of ingratitude
She asks them to heal my heart
I traipse across the small, asphalt parking lot
To the west side of The Saddle
I watch the sun set behind Buffalo Moutain
I notice the tree on this side of The Saddle
Its branches filled with leaves and swaying in the wind
Singing a tune
That night as I lie under the clear moonless sky
On the east side of The Saddle
Next to the old bare tree that no longer bears leaves...
Dozens of shooting stars streak across the sky!
Dozens!
Dozens!
A spectacular display of light trails!
Star dust...
For hours, I gaze
Amazed, in awe
Just me, and the wind, and the trees
And the clear, moonless night sky
Singing with streams of light
I think of Abraham in the Bible
And how his offspring would number more than the stars of heaven
More than the grains of sand upon the earth
Gratitude fills my heart
I am of this one blood dating back millennia
Dating back millions of years to stardust
From which I was born
These stars and I are kin
The wind and I are kin
And the old bare twisted, gnarled, beautiful sacred tree
Who no longer bears leaves
Who gives witness to me
Little ole' me
She and I are kin...
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