Hello, friend! Has fall found you yet? The summer has continued to stretch on here, so October has yet to settle into its standard attire. Even though the heat has lingered, the hummingbirds have headed south, while the squirrels are working non-stop burying nuts all over the yard. Ophie delights in chasing them as we go out each morning.
In this month’s edition of Notes you’ll find:
a little warm walnut ink art
news of my beloved persimmon tree and a few words it has to share
This month my wish for you is to encounter something in this big beautiful natural world that surprises you with its strength and nourishes your sense of hope. Not sure where to start? The Nature Gazing Guide offers a simple way to begin looking more deeply, right now.
Wishing you cool and peaceful days,
💛
“
If a person walks in the woods and listens carefully, he can learn more than what is in books, for they speak with the voice of God.
— George Washington Carver
My beloved persimmon tree
Notes from Nature: The Deeply Rooted Persimmon Tree
Even though I know that often people and things are stronger and far more resilient than they appear, I consider it a real gift to witness it first-hand. Those of you who have been with me for a while may remember me writing about my beloved persimmon tree, and how the years had taken their toll. In spite of its deterioration, it produced an abundant harvest of golden orange fruit.
In early June this year, we had a ferocious storm come through in the evening, with powerful straight-line winds. They tossed many large limbs of our trees willy-nilly across the lawn.
The sunny sky of the next morning had forgotten its turbulent night, but our trees provided solid evidence. As I looked about surveying the damage, my eyes drifted to the back, to my persimmon tree.
My heart broke.
No longer upright, it looked like the trunk, which was already half gone from the diligent work of wood ants over the years, had been snapped like a twig.
As I made my way to it, I was astonished to find that in fact the trunk had not broken, but rather, the entire tree had been mostly uprooted and blown over from its base. A large hole in the ground now testified to where the persimmon had stood watch for decades. The wave of sadness and loss that had washed over me was somehow lessened. I found it consoling that although the wind brought it down, it would not be broken.
We decided to leave the persimmon tree where it lay, untouched for the time. Summer temperatures continued to rise, and each morning as I passed on my walk, I watched with an ache in my heart, anticipating the sad withering of leaves and shriveling of barely started fruits.
But that didn’t happen.
Instead my persimmon tree carried greenly on, and to my utter delight and amazement the fruit continued growing. Apparently enough roots remained deep and continued to provide all the nourishment it needed. My persimmon was not yet done with its astonishingly beautiful life, and it still had more things to tell me. Again, the fruit grew fleshy and plump, ripening fully in the tree’s recumbent position. It was an absolute joy for me to witness!
As I have contemplated the life of my persimmon tree, the most powerful of the many stories it has told me is how when we are deeply rooted in the good soil of God, even though we are wounded and weak, we have the gift of an unbreakable strength by which we can weather whatever the storm brings, grow fruit and give in abundance.
“See? Look what I did! You can too!” it says encouragingly.
I will be forever grateful for the gift of my persimmon tree, and its achingly beautiful witness to the life-giving strength of our Creator. To the one who makes it possible for me to bear fruit, even in the most challenging of times and my weakest moments.
My friend, may you too be encouraged, remembering the unfailing strength and life you can always root deeply into.
If you'd like to read my persimmon tree reflection I shared last October, you can find it here.
Hello to my new and returning Friends of the Bower!
Did something in this month's Notes speak to you? Did you stumble into a moment of beauty? Hit reply and share your thoughts. Your responses make my heart happy!
New readers, your name has been added to the prayer jar in my studio. Welcome to the Friends of the Bower community!
Wishing you days filled with lasting peace, joy, and beauty!
Notes from the Bower is published the second Wednesday of each month. The next editionis scheduled to arrive in your inbox November 11th. I’m looking forward to meeting you here again. Until then, live peacefully, live joyfully, live beautifully.
