Wife Cherry Tree Zen
So I sit down and write this blog in the middle of the 3rd major snowstorm in a couple of weeks here in good ol' Massachusetts. We just had a Nor Eastahhh a few days ago and guess what? We loved that so much we decided to have another! weeeeeee! (burp).
I look out my home office window at the winter wonderland of absolute white and see the world ( well this section of the world) covered for a moment in an etheric cushion, a blanket of pause that informs everyone to sit and slow and reflect.
I was up late last night attending to a new situation that I was recently asked to aid and after my work was finished for the night, I looked online at the forecast for the next day and all reports where leading to another whopper of a storm, so I headed off to bed for a few hours and waited to see what I would see in the am.
So after I awoke, I looked up my driveway from my bedroom and saw the blanket of pure white covering all, flakes just pouring down out of the sky. The area was quiet, the endless snow plows had not come yet down the streets, the grinding harsh sounds of reality cracking the awesome gift of silence from nature had not made its mark yet.
I looked down from the window on high to see the cherry tree in front of my garage, the cherry tree that my wife and I planted together years ago a short while after we purchased our home year ago. In the last storm, it suffered damage from the winds and weight of the snow and a large branch snapped off. I had to go out after the major snow had fell and act like a lumberjack and saw the large branch down and haul it out of the way of the driveway...( how macho).
If anyone ever has planted a tree, plant, etc with a loved one, you will know that it is like an extension of the love of the couple and to see the tree damaged kicked me square in the nuts.
When my wife saw it, she said "Look, it is on the same side as my surgery!" (She went through the nightmare of 2 breast cancer surgeries a couple of years ago). In her ever lasting flow of love and hope, she said then said, "Well, maybe it needed a trim, to grow even more, just like me!".
How about that for some enlightened words? She is truly magical.
The Rabid ( Snowlocked ) Monk