Walking Amongst the Trees
A reflection about the beauty of life and the opportunity to be grateful.
When I was a child, I was enamored with the variety of trees in our yard, and every spring, I couldn’t wait until they burst forth with the greenery of new life. Especially our large Mimosa tree, which was the center of activity for cicadas and children alike!
I remember spending hours climbing in that Mimosa tree, filled with pinkish white flowers and branches that reached towards the heavens in every direction. Much to my mother’s chagrin, I always pushed the limits on how far I could go, seeking to summit the canopy's top without falling to the ground, some 20 feet below.
We also had the towering cottonwood tree, which extended far beyond the roof of our house and into the sky. This giant was much harder to climb, but it wasn’t long before I conquered it and discovered how to leap from its sacred branches onto the roof below. My parents were never happy about that.
However, my favorite memory was from our pecan tree.
Every year, it would be the bane of my existence because as it shed hundreds of greenish brown pecans to the earth below, it was my responsibility to rake them up, separate the good ones from the bad, and deliver them in buckets so they could be prepared for my mother’s famous pecan pie. I enjoyed the food but not the labor!
But it’s what my dad did with that pecan tree every Christmas that made it so special.
For some reason, he decided it would become his tradition to break out the extendable ladder, climb up those rickety branches as far as he could go towards the top, and drop one single strand of outdoor lights straight down to the bottom for his glorious act of Christmas spirit.
After he died and our childhood home burned down, that huge pecan tree stood strong, along with that single strand of lights.
Thirty-three years later, it’s still there.
Trees are very special to me.
While they provide us with the oxygen we need to live and breathe, I’ve always had a deep connection with nature, and I can feel the surge of energy and life as I walk among them. Sometimes, I even think I can hear them speaking, as if they’re trying to tell me incredible stories of adventures from decades past.
It sounds weird and crazy, but it is what it is.
As we hike trails across the country, I always find myself reaching out to them, feeling the beauty of their skin, and giving them my gratitude for the joy they give me.
Maybe it’s all deeply rooted in the memories I have from my early days or because I realize they will likely be here long after I’m gone, but whether it’s a juniper or an aspen, an oak or willow, they receive my sincerest appreciation.
Sometimes in life, we forget the important things.
Rather than being present and thankful for the beautiful moments we have right now, we get obsessed over the stuff that doesn’t matter when we’re dead.
Being outdoors reminds me to be fully present, to take it all in, and to enjoy what I have because just like how those childhood memories are fading fast, so is the very life I’m living right now.
Right before my dad died, he told my sister it’s amazing how we take a breath of fresh air for granted. Walking among the trees always reminds me of this.
Today, I encourage you to take a walk.
Surround yourself with the trees that give us life.
Listen to what they might say.
And then take a moment to be grateful for the very breath you breathe.
You’ve been blessed with another day.
And that is a true gift.
