There’s nothing wrong with having a tree as a friend.   – Bob Ross

I’ve been lucky this summer to spend time with some ancient trees – cedars in Japan, sequoias in California, pines in New England. It’s reminded me of how, during the height of the pandemic, I used to go out and lean against the biggest, oldest oaks on the Boston Common, subconsciously yet deeply comforted.

I have a habit of patting tree-friends and saying a few words as I pass. This seems to surprise fellow humans, so I usually do it quietly, when other people are absent.

But friends, Bob Ross is right (as usual). Let’s introduce our friends to one another, whether they be they human or animal or botanical.

Let’s cherish each and every one. 

I’d like to introduce you to a new tree-friend from the Mariposa Grove on the edge of Yosemite, who is about 2000 years old. A 100-year-old human would only have witnessed 5% of this tree’s lifespan. She narrowly escaped the Washburn fire a few years back, thanks to decades of intentional fire stewardship based on longstanding Native American practices, plus the heroism of local firefighters.

Thousands have lived without love; not one without water.  

     – WH Auden

Water is elemental; water is life. Perhaps this power is why wild, natural water bodies fascinate and terrify me, in equal proportions.  

This past week I had the chance to quietly reflect next to still water, to persevere against frozen pellets falling from the sky, and to stand nearly paralyzed before many (many!) stream and river crossings. It was awesome, and also humbling.

I have to admit that when we finally passed through the area of generous-yet-daunting natural connections like fallen logs and slippery rocks, I kissed the first constructed bridge that we encountered. What a wave of relief and gratitude, to know that others – total strangers! – had left this gift for future travelers.

Dear ones, we can’t always be the engineers. Sometimes it’s all we can do to struggle across the stream ourselves. 

But if we can, when we can, let’s recognize the full power of the forces around us. Let’s see where a bridge might really help.

Let’s make it easier for the next ones to cross. 

Summertime is full of delights, and it’s also full of chores. Returning home after a long voyage, the mountain of maintenance nearly overwhelmed me.

The invasive roses were soaring over my head. A lumpy brown creature had excavated a big pile of stones from under the porch. My sore knee was going click-clack with every step. Suffice to say, it was not a day of glorious one-ness with nature.

The sun set on my to-do list, without a single entry crossed off. And then, as a bright moon rose over the hill, I saw a glint in the brambles, the ones I had yet to clear. Then another. Then a full-blown spark, floating skyward. The fireflies had returned.

Friends, we will all have uphill days, with challenges far more daunting than yardwork.

May all of our brambles bring fireflies.