JSYK33: Sitting Tree
So, it's happened. The big, bad, unthinkable, crazy, marvelous, daring, arduous, unexplainable, ridiculous, unexpected and expected has happened: I have moved to Oklahoma!
Oh no. Spare me the song that so many have burst into singing at the mention of this state. Does anyone actually know the words to this song? I have the movie, but it sits in the farthest recesses of the movie shelf and getting it out simply to listen to a song I've heard start over one hundred times seems a little backwards.
Anyway, It's hard to believe we've only been here for a week, actually even less. Our house is still the moving mess and is starting to show its true age as we use it more and more. However, it has some wonderful advantages:
It was the very first thing I noticed when we pulled up. No one had informed me of the monster of a tree, with limbs just low enough to grasp, that sat resolutely in our front yard. It looks almost as if it has become weary over the many years it has stood in it's place because its trunk splits and then falls to either side, making a wide V. Its leaves aren't completely full, but leave just enough space for the sunlight to peek through onto your bare arms on a bright day. If you position yourself just right, the Oklahoma winds whips around the branches and tickles your back as it swirls your hair around your face.
Can you tell I love my tree?
The short amount of time we have lived here has mainly been spent sitting in the nook of said tree (which will most likely acquire a name by the end of next week). I grab my old and worn notebook and my iPod and can sit out there for days, watching the surprised looks on squirrels' faces when they realize the new addition to their surroundings, and being careful not to agitate the ants that occasionally wander in my direction. I haven't met many people yet, but from my perch I see many cars zooming by. They almost seem out of place in our quiet little neighborhood, as if everyone should cruise by and stop in for lemonade because, in such a place, what could one be in a hurry to do?
I feel almost as if God is whispering to me through the leaves while I sit there, making me laugh as the white, fluffy seeds of the milkweed float calmly by on the soft breeze, and making me sigh when the fireflies float just out of reach, disapear, and illuminate once again further away, only to fade back into the night. I thought about trying to contain it all in a poem, but honestly, my pencil just hovers above the blank page, as if it were all an inside joke between Him and me, as if containing it in my limited range of vocabulary would take away from the joy I feel in every moment I spend there, even if my legs go numb :)
Anyway, if my blog suddenly seems to be void of new posts, you know where to find me.
Oh no. Spare me the song that so many have burst into singing at the mention of this state. Does anyone actually know the words to this song? I have the movie, but it sits in the farthest recesses of the movie shelf and getting it out simply to listen to a song I've heard start over one hundred times seems a little backwards.
Anyway, It's hard to believe we've only been here for a week, actually even less. Our house is still the moving mess and is starting to show its true age as we use it more and more. However, it has some wonderful advantages:
- Quiet neighborhood
- Close to grandparents
- Non-humid weather (it's 100 degrees, but it doesn't feel like it)
- ***Fireflies***
It was the very first thing I noticed when we pulled up. No one had informed me of the monster of a tree, with limbs just low enough to grasp, that sat resolutely in our front yard. It looks almost as if it has become weary over the many years it has stood in it's place because its trunk splits and then falls to either side, making a wide V. Its leaves aren't completely full, but leave just enough space for the sunlight to peek through onto your bare arms on a bright day. If you position yourself just right, the Oklahoma winds whips around the branches and tickles your back as it swirls your hair around your face.
Can you tell I love my tree?
The short amount of time we have lived here has mainly been spent sitting in the nook of said tree (which will most likely acquire a name by the end of next week). I grab my old and worn notebook and my iPod and can sit out there for days, watching the surprised looks on squirrels' faces when they realize the new addition to their surroundings, and being careful not to agitate the ants that occasionally wander in my direction. I haven't met many people yet, but from my perch I see many cars zooming by. They almost seem out of place in our quiet little neighborhood, as if everyone should cruise by and stop in for lemonade because, in such a place, what could one be in a hurry to do?
I feel almost as if God is whispering to me through the leaves while I sit there, making me laugh as the white, fluffy seeds of the milkweed float calmly by on the soft breeze, and making me sigh when the fireflies float just out of reach, disapear, and illuminate once again further away, only to fade back into the night. I thought about trying to contain it all in a poem, but honestly, my pencil just hovers above the blank page, as if it were all an inside joke between Him and me, as if containing it in my limited range of vocabulary would take away from the joy I feel in every moment I spend there, even if my legs go numb :)
Anyway, if my blog suddenly seems to be void of new posts, you know where to find me.
Wow . . . I cannot tell you how jealous I am of that sitting tree. I miss country life. But I'm glad other people still get to enjoy it. :)
ReplyDeleteWell, there's plenty of tree to go around :)
ReplyDelete