Treetops

This summer I was mesmerized by the treetops. I found myself looking up on long bike rides through country roads, on long runs down the lake shore, on wonderfully lazy days soaking up the sun--I couldn't get enough.

It is as if the full green leaves, full of life, are twinkling as they flutter back and forth. They wave at you individually, yet sway together in a calming smooth motion that creates a soothing summer song. I think the song comes from the top--the first leaves to catch the wind and harmonize with it. The leaves don't try to fight the gusts; they bend, twist, and quiver with the wind.

Now that it is fall, and the yellow leaves have begun to fall, a crunchy layer of those beautifully independent leaves are gathering on the ground. And I begin to reflect that we often don't realize the strength and beauty of treetops until they are falling. We spend our days watching our steps, instead of looking up and trusting our steps will fall where they are supposed to.

I'd like to spend more time looking up and listening to the unobtrusive movements and songs of the treetops. I want to feel the wind in my movements, I want to let it make me bend, twist, quiver and swing without resistance. There are so many times I feel mindlessly drawn to daily motions and habits--and I feel as though I could be lonely and predictable forever. Yet, when I look to the treetops, and watch them sway I'm inspired and confident that my steps will fall where they are supposed to; so I can keep looking up to the treetops.