Thursday, January 24, 2013

Three Olive Trees:

Three olive trees, due to the frigid-cold-winter-weather outside, are currently standing inside. Inside my living room. While watering them, early on this Thursday morning, I stepped back to admire just how beautiful they truly are. Nursing each from a small sapling last summer, they now stand proud in their oversized pots; yet confined by those same pots at the same time. Each has been exposed to different amounts of sunlight over their past year of potting (the state of being potted, that is), and each presents itself differently: the first is small; the second larger yet; with the last growing in all directions. Clearly one tree has been seeing more sun than the others. Proud as I am, the olive trees have yet to expand their roots, or even bud. But they've also taken off! Growing surprisingly fast for such slow growing trees. Yet these trees persist onward, marching forward to their destination-less destination, while their growth continues in small but noteworthy ways. Only over time will their roots expand; should I dare to re-pot them. If I did, would they grow further? Or would they struggle to find new soil in such luxuriously expansive pots? Never knowing until I replant; the trees, for now, continue resting indoors and away from winter's chill. Until the spring and summer sunlight returns to Northern Europe, the trees will stay dormant, active in their spirit yet calm and steady in their growth; their full energy returning once the world completes its annual turn. Never knowing how long they will survive; never able to see their honest reflection; never able to truly comprehend their genesis and instead able to continue forwards. Onward to their future, never reliving the past; never knowing what their future may bring. Yet, through their growth, the trees, each and every day, offer up their beauty to all–expressing themselves for the curious. These three olive trees, I feel, share much in common, with me.