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I Visited a Tree

I visited a tree on my way home from work. I stopped by the park and sat at a picnic table just a few feet from a large tree and a small creek. Fifteen minutes with no other agenda - no phone, no music, no plan. I watched some insects - mostly ants. Some of them moved along the dirt near my feet. Others walked up and down the tree. As I watched an ant walking on the deeply textured bark, I noticed the tree's trunk had an interesting shape - like legs creating a valley where they touch. As moving as art, but more dynamic - more real.

A chipmunk came by while foraging and didn't notice me until it was only a couple of feet away. Among all the sounds at the park, the chipmunk’s startled squeak was the only sound that carried any sense of alarm. The chirps from the birds and the babbling of the creek were calming. Even the voices of people at the busier end of the park carried their owners’ joy and fun. No one needed anything from me. I felt no demands except to be present.

A lighting bug landed on a leaf. After watching it for a bit, I gently moved it to my hand and felt it wander across my fingers until it flew away. One of the insects on the ground was super fast over short distances. After each sprint, it would stop for a bit. I could see it easily when it was moving, but it disappeared when it was still. When it was time to go, I realized how much I had needed this pause. As I walked away from the tree, I understood that my life is full of sprints. But unlike the darting insect, it is only when I stop for a bit that I can really see where I am.

Mike B

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