(NOTE: I found this entry from a long time ago. It was fun to read and completely describes how I feel today. And its about trees. How suiting. Grammar and wording have been edited.)
I have a close friend. Her name is Gloria.
Gloria is a tree.
She is not just any tree. Gloria is a mighty tree. An unmovable tree. An unstoppable tree. A tree that forces you to hug it.
I came to know Great Gloria on a day that was very unhappy. You know those type of days? The unhappy ones. Yes. It was one of those. I just knew things would be so much better if I could just find a tree and sit in it...
Low and behold, there she was. Perfectly shaped, wonderfully made, donning a brilliantly large happy face carved into her most enormous branch.
---If that is not a sign of a joyful tree, then I don't know what is!---
Every time I climb into Gloria, I'm greeted with a smile. Mmm. Lovely. And every time I sit with Gloria, forgetting the pedestrians around me and their looks of confusion and secret longing, the breeze blows in this way that cannot be described by any other word than...
Breathtaking.
I am met with the kind of silky air that literally takes your breath away when I rest my head on the bosom of dearest Gloria. I will be in the middle of a sentence or spooning ice cream into my mouth, typically accompanied with a friend who shares a common interest in trees or food of any sort, and I can't help myself. I have to stop everything I'm doing, stretch out my arms as wide as I can, close my eyes, and let it rush over like a warm, welcoming hug.
Its quite laughable. This experience can only be explained by saying that its almost as if God, Himself, interrupts me with prettiness. And prettiness just can't be denied, it can't be ignored, it can't be put aside--you HAVE to stop and submerge yourself in it, be captured by it, give it your full attention!
So this is my point: I went on a long bike ride today and while I rode past the dozens of landmarks of my childhood, one being my small hand prints in the cement of my neighbor's driveway, the birds were singing to me--literally, singing to me. And I knew they were singing to ME. Not to you, not to my neighbors, not to the mail man who kept trying to run me over...
...but to me.
As I rode further, I was overwhelemd when I realized there are lots of trees all throughout my neighborhood, which I seem to only notice when I am making it a point to take notice, and ya know something? Almost always trees come in twos. Its really mysterious to me. I wonder what the point of that is? Its very rare that you see trees of different groups sitting singularly, with their lonesome. Really, take a look for yourself.
Threes are almost always accompanied by another one of its same kind.
While I cycled on, my short legs scurrying round and round, all of my attention was drawn to the sun-kissed beauties that were the tallest. I noticed these two pine trees as the highest of all the trees in the forest, the mightiest kings of the castle. These pine trees were stripped of almost all their leaves except a small bundle, fluttering at the very top, branches prostrate, almost as if in surrendered worship. As for the rest of the trees around them, it just seems they just didn't have it in them to keep growing, to keep going higher.
No. Only these two trees made it. Its like these trees were determined to reach the sky and wouldn't settle for anything less. They had their mind set on submerging themselves into the light. It costs them their time. It costs them their beauty. It costs them closeness with other trees...
Still, they grew taller. They're kinda awkward, they sorta stick out and seem out of place, yet their height is incomparable to any others.
It was today that I realized I want to be like those trees.
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