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Rubbing Elbows with Trees

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The first time I mowed the grass at our new place was a little over three weeks ago. It takes awhile to get to know the lawn—how to mow in the most efficient way, where there may be roots sticking up that may impact the blades, which parts are weedy versus lush and long. I like mowing. It may be monotonous in a way, but it feels more like meditation to me—my body moves in habitual ways, the sun warms me, the breeze slides over my skin, and my mind can go wherever it needs to go. And then when I’m all finished, ‘the lawn looks good mowed,’ as Chris or I will say.

This place has many more evergreen trees to mow around than we’ve ever had, and it was not long before I realized that I was literally rubbing elbows with trees. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I affirmed that I was happy to rub elbows with trees! At this time of year, the new growth is soft and brightly-colored. The Green Spruces have opulent lime green extensions reaching out at various heights.

The distinguished Colorado Blue Spruces have light blue-green branches of tender new growth, like melt-in-your-mouth mints of candy confection.

Each time I mowed close to the trees, the lavish fragrance of a fresh-cut Christmas tree filled my nostrils.

A quad of Red Cedar trees grows close together, like school girls on the school yard with their arms linked, elbow to elbow—wealthy in friendship.

The prominent new growth of Spruces, Firs, and Pines is called ‘candles,’ which are most ‘candle-like’ on Pines. This once-a-year growth adds an abundance of new needles that unfold and harden off by early summer.

I love how the candles all point to the beautiful blue sky.

Rubbing elbows with eminent Oaks happens when they are young adolescents, when the branches are thin and pliable. The new, tender leaves are at the right height for grazing deer to munch on. If it happens early enough in the season, the tree will put out a new shoot of growth to ‘fill in’ where the deer removed the foliage.

Jack Pines are medium-sized conifers that often have crooked trunks and drooping lower branches. The pollen cones are rusty flowers that release a thick yellow pollen in late Spring, like gold drifting from the sky.

The small, hardy trees are well-adapted to fire. Their cones are ‘serotinous’—sealed with resin that requires high heat to open and liberate the seeds, most often with fire, but high air temperatures can open cones on low branches. One tree can be flush with many old, sealed cones with seeds that remain viable for years.

‘Rubbing elbows’ means to associate or socialize with someone—usually someone who is rich, famous, or special in a similar way. The President, who is most certainly all of the above, recently tweeted about some former cabinet members, “They all want to come back for a piece of the limelight.”

I prefer a piece of the sunlight that shines on us all, the wealth of blue sky for anyone who looks up, the abundance of beautiful trees affluent in life-giving oxygen. I want to rub elbows with creations that affirm life and liberty for all other creations of all sizes and colors. I want to link arms with living beings that are compelled to grow and change and whose trajectory is towards the light. Sometimes new growth and change come from the heat and passion and destruction of the old order, the ‘serotinous,’ unopened systems that protect the status quo. Public attention is widening. Illumination is happening. The new seeds are waiting.

The Mess is Real

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It’s been kind of a tough week. One of those weeks when there seems to be an ice dam blocking the normal flow of life, flooding places I don’t want to be flooded with things I don’t want to deal with—it’s been a reflection of what’s been happening in physical time in the upper Midwest. My heart goes out to all who are dealing with the literal ice dams and floods—the damage is extensive; the mess is real.

Meanwhile, on our hill high above the River, Spring has arrived in a calm, quiet form. The warmish days and cold nights have slowed the snow melt after the rapid accumulation of rain and melting snow that have unleashed the fury to the south of us. We are beginning to see the ground.

With melting of the snow comes a revelation of the debris of Winter. Piles of sunflower and safflower seed hulls mound on the ground under the bird feeders as the snow disappears from the layers of Winter.

The Fall-raked lawn is now scattered with pinecones, sticks, and pine needles that Winter’s harsh snows and winds dislodged from the high branches of the mature trees.

The garden is considerably less filled with snow than a week ago but still quite a ways from Spring planting.

The deer have left some debris in their Winter pathways—we just watch our step and wait to see what grows in that fertilized space.

But the Spring stirring has started in the Maple trees! Flower buds have emerged from the branches, poised for exuberant activity to come. On the warm, sunny afternoons, sap is flowing, darkening the bark as the upward flow leaks out and flows back down.

Beneath the snow, there are millions of blades of green grass arising from dormancy, getting ready to carpet the world with life.

The patio is emerging from mounds of snow, the sun-warmed rocks being the first to push back the snow.

The remains of Fall still decorate the background of snow but will soon be lost in the riotous, new green growth of Spring.

Fall, Winter, and the potential of Spring collide in this first week of the Vernal Equinox.

With each day, the grass patches are getting larger, and the snow patches are shrinking. We prepared for Winter by getting everything cleaned up, tidy, and put away. But even in the dormancy, lots of things happen, and some of them are messy. In other words, we have to clean up after Winter, too. What of this dormancy and incubation time of Winter for us? I think this time of quiescence is actually a gathering of old, fall-like ideas and beliefs that rumble around under the insulation of our consciousness. What is uncovered come Spring? It’s kind of messy. It creates blockages in the flow of our ‘normal’ living. New ideas spring forth and flood the way we once thought or planned. We see the ground (thank goodness), but the seeds are not yet sown. I will watch my step. I feel poised for exuberant activity to come.