Does the mighty pine bow to any element in nature. There she stands, proud and strong, hailing the wind, baring her body to the slashing or gentle rains, standing majestic in the presence of the snow storms and prevailing, no matter what. Which element is stronger than the pine tree? Who rules the forest and the trees?
But then, water itself changes, sometimes a mist, a film that clings to everyone and everything, a cloud in the sky and a fog in the night. And it can be frozen to form the ubiquitous gentle unique flakes of snow, or ice that clings in mysterious diamond s, coating the precious pine with its glory. Or it can be diamonds, sparkling in the brilliant sunshine, frozen mist on the ever green needles of the pine. And it can be heavy, wet snow, weighting the limbs of the tree to the point of breaking, the arms bowing under the pressure of the white wet load.
The pine stands steadfast through all the elements, never wavering, until the weight of the frozen water, water which it needs to sustain its life, breaks it to the ground. The wind, the rain, sleet, hail, and the sun beat upon the pretty pine and it is not affected, yet changing the property of the water changes the weight and the proud pine bends and bows its boughs to the ground.
Are we the pine trees, onslaught by the elements and remaining unchanged until one singular event weighs our shoulders down to the point of breaking? How does the tree recover and go on? Possibly a limb is severed in the storm, but mighty and proud, the tree recovers with the assistance of the surrounding tree friends, and once more stands tall and strong, baring its soul to the wind. Be the tree.
But then, water itself changes, sometimes a mist, a film that clings to everyone and everything, a cloud in the sky and a fog in the night. And it can be frozen to form the ubiquitous gentle unique flakes of snow, or ice that clings in mysterious diamond s, coating the precious pine with its glory. Or it can be diamonds, sparkling in the brilliant sunshine, frozen mist on the ever green needles of the pine. And it can be heavy, wet snow, weighting the limbs of the tree to the point of breaking, the arms bowing under the pressure of the white wet load.
The pine stands steadfast through all the elements, never wavering, until the weight of the frozen water, water which it needs to sustain its life, breaks it to the ground. The wind, the rain, sleet, hail, and the sun beat upon the pretty pine and it is not affected, yet changing the property of the water changes the weight and the proud pine bends and bows its boughs to the ground.
Are we the pine trees, onslaught by the elements and remaining unchanged until one singular event weighs our shoulders down to the point of breaking? How does the tree recover and go on? Possibly a limb is severed in the storm, but mighty and proud, the tree recovers with the assistance of the surrounding tree friends, and once more stands tall and strong, baring its soul to the wind. Be the tree.
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