All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray…Everyone knows that famous lead in vocal…Some kids were singing it in class yesterday…silly boys…I don’t why in world that song came to their minds…but they were busting it out in weak falsetto…
It made me think…I hate it when the brown leaves cling. They are supposed to fall…aren’t they? I love the sight of bare tree limbs against the sky… especially the gray sky. I have always loved black and whites. There is a clarity, a poignancy that they convey. I love to find interesting b&w compositions of unclad trees.
“Tree” scenes have long arrested me, made something catch in my chest. It is not symbol, nor some deep metaphor attached that impacts me so. It is simply the beauty of the trees, naked, exposed so very plainly.
Watchman Nee teaches the opposing principles of gravity and life. Gravity pulls us earthward. Life pulls us sunward. A tree is the embodiment of the principle of life. Without life’s reigning in the tree’s mortal body, it too, succumbs to the principle of gravity. Dead trees fall.
But living trees do not. They stand and reach high toward the sun, whether in the season of growth or dormancy. I have a friend who told me recently that she is in a season of dormancy. She discerns no apparent fruit, nor flower nor even bud…but she and I both know that life flows internally just the same… life that holds that tree in its stretch upward. Dormancy is life without show…life hidden…life preparing.
I so love those bare trees…sillouetted against the sky…alive in mystery… but just the same, alive.