age and wisdom.
I was walking in Central park today and I began to marvel at the huge, beautiful, old trees. They are always there. Steady, dependable and gorgeous. But I have rarely connected with more than just the beauty of a big, old tree. Trees this size are older than me. By many years. They have survived terrible storms, insect infestations, high winds and harsh winters. They have witnessed human triumphs, failures and joys. They bear scars from fire or disease. Some have fallen. But those that remain are survivors. They have the wisdom of the years and aren’t the young, lush perfect specimens they once were…..but they are glorious reminders of life lived. Today, as I gazed up at the hundreds of years before me…I felt reeeeeaaaaallllyy small. I felt a connection to something greater than myself. Big old trees are beautiful because they have AGE. Young trees although beautiful and lush, don’t compare.
Now how come we can’t apply this to our own aging process? Celebrate the scars and the triumphs and the knowledge gained after living a full life?
No reason why we can’t. I’m sticking with the trees.