The tree sits on our boundary line. We didn’t even know it was there until our neighbor began moving our stone wall. Suddenly, it was there and had my attention.
It was small, frail looking if I had to describe it. I had my doubts if it was even a tree. It’s smallness tugged at my heart and I desired to “save” it, protect it, so as to see how it would grow.
It’s been several years now and the tree still demands my focus. Each time I go in and out of our driveway, my eyes are drawn to look in its direction and smile at its growth.
Winter. The dictionary defines it as “the cold season” and “cold weather”. But it’s more than this …
Winter. Just saying the word makes a whistling sound, much like the sound of the wind blowing through the trees in our woods.
Winter speaks to me of bare trees, icy patches, cold temps, soft falling snow, and a stillness.
It may be my favorite season, truth be known. The darkness settles in earlier, inviting me to light a candle and get comfortable under a warm blanket. Warm tea often fills my insides as well as soups and stews.
Winter draws me into deeper thought as the snow falls and deepens at times. And winter draws me to the tree and I am amazed once again.
I hope you will join me at #TellHisStory where I will share the hope this little tree brings to me in the middle of winter.