Sometimes I surprise myself. You would think that after all these years I would know myself better. Perhaps I know myself less than others know me. But that’s a topic for another day. Today I tasted Spring. You remember Spring? That’s when the weather gets warmer, the sun shines brighter, boys start thinking more about girls and girls start thinking more about nesting.
But me being who I am myself, my mind tends to go on its “five year mission to explore new worlds; to go where no man has gone before”. And here’s where it landed this week:
We’ve all seen the little miracles that happen in the Spring. We just haven’t ever considered them to be miracles. I’m not talking about a weed that grows through between two flagstones or a crack in the sidewalk.
I’m talking about a bang-your-head-against-a-tree miracle.
Go ahead if you want to test it. Bang your head against a tree. Better yet, smack a solid wood tree with the guy down the street who bullied you all last year, or even a big rock. Know what happens?
NOTHING! THAT’S WHAT?
You can’t hurt the tree without breaking yourself, your bully or your rock. TREES ARE VERY HARD. VERY, VERY, VERY HARD!
So, how do you explain the little, soft, delicate bud that pokes its head out from the middle of a bad old hard wood tree to become a new sprig? I’m not talking about a bud at the tip of a branch or even a new growth in the middle of a thin, soft branch.
I’M TALKING ABOUT FROM THE MIDDLE OF A HARD, VERY HARD, VERY VERY HARD… hard main trunk of some bad-assed big tree.
How do you explain that?
I suppose if you were some Mensa type biologist with a whole dictionary of Latin-induced biological recall from your grade ten biology course you could probably mess up my mind with figures and facts and truths and justice and the American way.
But to me… a simple soul in a world he never created, it will always appear to be just another miracle.
Yes. It’s Just another commonplace every-day-shut-my-mouth-and-call-me-dumb miracle.