A tree stump sits out back, near the porch, surrounded by rhododendron. The life that once stood taller than the house is now a mere semblance of what it was. It waits for time to pass. For more life to surround it.
The many lines that show are a testament to its long life. Its age was not like that of the bent back old man or the near deaf old lady, growing more decrepit with time. Its age was a strong and lasting passage of time, knowing no feebleness of form or soul. Through the years it watched the many transformations of towns and people. It saw many animals come and go, many that used it for life and home.
It now sits, waiting. Its direction is no longer sure, because it was taken down at the height of a full life, one that was gearing up to outlive no less than another six generations. Another six. Imagine that. Our now feeble bodies and minds can only hope to last beyond three generations, leaving us wondering if the term great grandmother will ever make it to our ears and into our hearts. Or great great grandmother, something that many once lived to see, but now hold as a tale told by ancestors who are believed to have no sense of time. But they knew time. Even more, they knew life.
The tree stump will remain as a reminder of this life we sometimes take for granted, and other times are thankful for. It will forever show the ages it has saved in the memory of its roots. Its rings of life tell a story. And that story is what we one day hope to know…through family and other loved ones. Maybe, just maybe, through the tree itself.
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Tags: experience, future, life, nature, past, present, truth
