Trees are slowly becoming divested of their covering. Layers are being removed by the elements. It’s a stripping off, losing a covering of leaves, a paring back to skeletal form, especially as wintry winds take hold.
There’s a strange kind of bare-bones beauty in the removal of a tree’s raiment, decorative as it is. Twisted branches speak of weight-bearing under strain, with an arthritic suggestion extending to the depleted spindliness of twigs, one I can relate to in my own weakened frame, with joints distorted by arthritis.
Life itself has a way of paring us back, and we notice it in particular when our bodies grow slack and bones protrude with lengthening years. It’s as if we are being issued with a salutary reminder that life consists of so much more than the physical. Which it does, of course.
Then I think of how stiff and resistant our souls can become, needing the wild winds of Holy Spirit to blow upon them like a wake up call. Extraneous leaves that have littered our thinking are denuded. We are brought back to simple necessities.
We learn how it is always better for us to remain pliant and flexible in spirit, able to surrender, bend and stretch to life’s challenges, aided by God’s grace. His Holy tune is the one that plays on human hearts. We are encouraged to listen to what it is saying and to yield to the wind of heavenly Love as it shapes us from season to season.
bend and stretch to wind’s wild tune
denuding their leaves