Aging

I aspire to be like this ginkgo. It’s just at the start of the Conifer Path, by the Walter Street Gate. All winter, its thin and injured trunk stood in contradiction to the seeming perfection of the yews across the way. To say it was past its prime was to be gracious. At a quick glance, it was merely an eye-sore.

And yet, spring, with all its other miracles, brought radiant green leaves to this rotted hulk of a tree. Look, you can see, it’s not an aberration, there are slender branches and much life still. Yes, a contradiction and not the one I noticed at first!

I’ve been reminded. I won’t write myself off any more than I will write off a tree that's time is not yet over, a tree that, in the face of injury and rot, manages to remember what’s most important: to continue to grow in whatever ways are possible, with grace and humility.