The tree is silent, still, and receptive

I drank from the rainwater bowl By Divyashakti

June 22nd, 2009

In the drippy, damp dimness I listened to the sounds – water flowing in the drain, drops falling on leaves and from leaves, distant hum of traffic with Doppler effect, occasional random breeze ruffling the cold leaves of the wattle and gum trees behind me. I thought of the silence the tree lives in – no ears – but realised that sound is vibration, and all these reach the tree in that way. In her stillness and silence, she is receptive to the subtle effects – such as vibrations. Receptive means to openly receive. The tree is silent, still, and receptive.

I looked at the strong, dark leaves of the flowering gum – they have grown into the space between the cherry blossoms, friendly and brash. Very Aussie.

I placed hands on the pale, rough blotches of lichen that decorate the tree’s bark, and ran my fingers along the crusty, peeling fissures of her bark. Inside that bark I felt soft webbing – some spinner in there, either of the past or future. I have come to love the sting of cold on the soles of my feet and the freshness of this wet winter under my toes.

I drank from the rainwater in the water bowl and washed my face with it.