“Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.”  —Hal Borland

As of late, Mondays have been a trip down nostalgia lane.  I recall when I went away to boarding school up in Massachusetts, my south bronx sensibilities were struck by the majesty of the trees and the sanctity of the grass.  At boarding school we could get in trouble if we were caught cutting across the path.  The grass was to remain green and vibrant. The trees were meant to be viewed with awe. They were tall, sturdy and strong. Many would climb them in merriment.

In the big city, we take trees for granted at times. We pass them by with barely a notice or we let our dogs mark them.

Today I dream of trees and growing tall and reaching for the sky.  I dream of shedding “leaves” and growing new branches. Its the cycle of life that we sometimes are afraid to engage in. We must shed, grow and reach.

Climbing up the bark

No bite, just growth and movement

Hover from above