The word beckons, two months — nearly to the day — after a life‐changing encounter with Sherlock Holmes.
This time, nature delivers on my daily morning walk.
Whoa! How did this happen?
No storms last night.
Not even a teeny gust of wind.
Curiousity moved me forward.
Inspection reveals this tree half‐died across a lengthy period of time. It consumed itself from the inside out, internal erosion concealed beneath solid exteriors.
Disease consumes perfection, beginning its continuing work on lower limbs.
Yet in this ultra close‐up, Life returns.
A ring of healthy bark embraces a circle of green. Star of hope amid a rotting halo. It’s a wink to onlookers who search for meaning in the world surrounding.
Truth hides what the outside never sees. Does that make a lie?
Parallels to the writing world—stories, projects, relationships, life itself—scream back at me. I smile.
Ah, today will be good.
When nature speaks, she roars.
What happens when we see, then listen.
Ellen offered a single word to these pictures: wabi‐sabi. It was a classic “aha!” moment. Wabi‐sabi centers on (quoting Wikipedia here) the Japanese aesthetic that art marries “asymmetry… austerity…and appreciation of …natural objects and processes.”
At her mention, I remember “duende.” It’s a Spanish term for a passionate experience relating to an experience of art or life.
I proclaim Tener Duende for wabi‐sabi! That’s my Tex‐Mex version of ‘to have duende’ for this entire discovery of one vital broken‐yet‐living tree.
Now I know why I walk. To see what to write.
It begins with Observation. Yes, with a capital “O.”
I end on this offering. Dear Deer marked my final photo from the day I observed the living/dying tree.
Can you spot the tribal trifecta?
Papa stands at first base with Mama guarding on second. Baby, new to the fam and our neighborhood since last winter, remains puzzled at third.
I stand at home plate, awed to silence.