Along the Way

It's an iconic image of relaxation - a hammock slung between two trees, inviting rest, inspiring closed-eyed contemplation, intimating repose. Every so often along this journey, we round a bend in our straight and narrow path and come upon a hammock, graciously provided for our respite near streams in the desert, slung between pines in the wasteland.

Trees I Have Loved, Part 1

The trees of my earliest memories are those in Grandma's yard. Mama remembers when, during her childhood, the house was built and the trees were planted; by the time of my early childhood, some twenty years later, the place was comfortably settled and had, at least to my small consciousness, the air of that which always had been and always would be.

Dominating the front yard were two ash trees, their massive trunks strong and steadfast, their graceful boughs spreading, sheltering and shading the yard, making a living canopy of dappled light and shadow under which my cousins and brother and I could play untroubled by the hot South Texas sun.

The Path of Paradox

It is something of a paradox, this path between the trees. Straight is the gate and narrow is the way; yet it winds along through various terrains, twisting and turning, with minor bumps here and major detours there. It leads through the sea, across the desert, into the valley, up to the high places. It brings us to way stations in expected places, beside rivers of water in dry places and in the shadows of great rocks in weary lands; and in places unthought-of, in the presence of our enemies. Some days we jog along in companionable conversation with fellow travelers, at times we walk in thoughtful silence, some nights we toil uphill feeling utterly spent and alone, forgetting that a Friend journeys with us, closer than a brother.