My mind is an oak tree, solid, stable with far-reaching roots that are unseen by the naked eye and yet travel deep throughout the earth’s core, reaching, searching for more depth and understanding. Above the surface, the oak tree’s unmovable trunk ascends and transforms and moves into numerous upward directions and scans and hovers giving shade below to anyone or anything that sits or walks by, offering a peaceful landscape when looked at from a distance. And let’s not forget those all unique oak tree branches, some strong enough to support the occasional cat, and squirrel who will use them as a transport system, strong enough too for a child and adult to climb up in their exploration journey through childhood and adulthood – reasons for climbing can be many.
Last but not least are the oak trees’ leaves which sound and look beautiful when the soft breezes create a dance; and then the summer’s blossom of pink or white flowers take control, famous for a while and worth standing back to absorb the view. The leaves are set free and take on a new existence once they fall in autumn; they become a garden’s carpet for us to leave alone until a sweeping of the dead leaves comes into play. Their shedding abandons the oak tree, leaving it lighter so as to restore energy for the next season’s demands.