Y3 – Day 15 – Contemplation Gifts

Reading and re-reading Gifts from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh inspires me to write about the treehouse in the same manner. Perhaps, Secrets of the Forest or Memories above the Mountains or The Treehouse Speaks or Observations of Nature’s Value or My Cabin’s Soul. 

Any pine cone related thought will do. How they drop heavy, weary from high suspension, off the highest tops of century old evergreens. How when they let go, they are mulched into the earth, used as decor by passing tourists or sown into the ground to resurrect a new tree. Filling their tissues and cells with nutrients all summer long, they submit to the winds which shake them off in the fall. Drumming on rooftops, bouncing off rocks, they lay in wait for hungry squirrels and chipmunks, critters of the forest. A conical skeleton is left to rot.

Any lake reference works. How the water reflects the sky in brimming blue. How the basin is teeming with aquatic life. Ducks skimming across to fetch feed dropped by children and adults alike. The sightseeing steamboat, The Queen, cruising by for all to see. Facts which are measured like how the level rises and falls according to the rainfall. The top layer sinks due to the frigid depth and then the bottom rises to the warmer atmosphere, recycling and regenerating, keeping the water refreshed. A scenic vista, photographed countless times, documented as a famous Hollywood set for decades.

Any meditative idea becomes poetic. Viewing issues differently, making every moment unique. Themes, relationships and mysteries are uncovered and organically discovered within this contemplative world. The thinned air lightens your mind. The colors bring rest. Rocks are weathered, jagged, broken while twigs come alive or snap. Nature in its glory. Streams reveal the health of the mountain while birds forage and communicate. The Starling Blue, the Red Headed Woodpecker and the black and white Spotted Chickadees with yellow throats and spotted tummies dance and sing, nourish and swoop. They each have a love song.

The woods have a hold on me, even just thinking about it.


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