Simply stated...Trees

I have a deciduous tree outside my office window. It's some kind of Maple, but don't ask me which one. That's Hubcap's department and he's not here to reference. :) Right now, the leaves and little reddish-pink flowers block my view of anything but the sky and the tree itself.

While I may not be a dab hand at identifying the subspecies (is that even the right word?) of a tree, I love them. Always have. Our last house backed up to a greenbelt (area that could not be developed) filled with towering Douglas Firs that danced in the wind like tall-skinny hula masters. I loved that view and will never forget the morning mists that made the small forest magical. I still miss it. Sigh...

So, if you think I'm saddened all I can see is a tree out my window, you'd be wrong. Its gorgeous and inspiring and does a lovely job of blocking off the rest of the world. Which sometimes I need. Want. Enjoy. Not absolutely sure which is the exact feeling, but think need may be the closest. :)

When I was a little girl (maybe 8), I used to sit under the big willow tree in our front yard and draw. I loved that tree and when it had to be cut down because the roots were growing into the plumbing and basement foundation, I cried. I still love willow trees more than any others, though when we went to Hawaii this past spring, I fell deeply in love with the Banyon trees. They're so old and majestic and intricate - just like a great book!I loved trees so much, I counted the number in our yard back then and proudly proclaimed it to all who would listen. (There were 13.) We have trees now, but they're young...the house isn't old and it was built on a cleared lot. One of the trees in our back yard died this year. We don't know why, but we're looking at it as an opportunity to plant a fruit tree. Both Hubcap and I like them. :)

We had a play area between two trees that I spent a lot of time playing make believe in too, when I was young. Before my parents divorce, before we moved to a mobile home park space with no trees. The play "house" was between two huge Evergreens. One of them had something like a cave on the opposite side to where the branches had been trimmed to make the "house". It was another spot where the lower branches did not all grow together, but the ones above draped down, protecting it from sight. I hid there once in a while, from the world.
Sometimes books are my trees...when I'm so stressed by deadlines, I *can't* think of my own stories, I hide in someone else's. It works. For me. Reading is a place to go when where I am is tough, or scary, or simply boring. :)

Sometimes the hot-tub is my tree. With all the bubbles going, I can't hear anything else and I can just float and think about stuff that isn't going to make my heart bleed. It's okay, we've all got stuff like that in our lives and sometimes its more prevalent than others, but joy is so much sweeter because it rarely comes without cost.

Maybe that's why I write romance, I want to be a beautiful, blocking tree for someone else - I want to give books that will make hearts glad and remind us that no matter how harsh the pain, there is the hope of redemption. Does that sound too grandiose?

I'm not sure, but one thing I do know...I love trees.


What do you turn to to soften the rough edges of the world, or simply block it out entirely?