The solitary urban tree

There has been much appreciation of the solitary tree on Blip of late. Earthdreamer specializes in them; Bethanne in Vermont often chooses them; Travellersjoy takes joy in them; and Local Food Lover even has a brooch with a solitary tree on it. Sometimes a solitary tree seems symbolic; sometimes it seems embattled or endangered; sometimes lonely; sometimes it just is what it is. I had their images in my mind today as I was doing errands downtown. This magnificent old tree is thriving, surrounded by buildings, people, cars, pavement, and sky. It's host and harbor to squirrels, birds, and a forest of moss in which another forest of ferns is growing, and its new leaves are just starting to unfurl. It has seen decades of life come and go, and it seems to hear and hold the conversations of the people who pass beneath as it embraces and graces the place where it's planted. I uploaded the maximum size so that if you want to see this world in a world large, you can do that. As an urban single person, I can't help yearning to be, at best, a bit like this tree. I am glad I had my pocket camera with me, as it has a wide-angle lens. But even the pocket camera couldn't encompass this tree, and the distorted buildings tilting toward it add to the feeling of its presence.

I'm feeling better today. The new allergy pills have dried me up, comparatively. I'm not coughing as much and only blowing my nose every fifteen minutes instead of every 1.5 minutes, so I'd say I'm ten times better. Tomorrow I think I can manage the next Elder Caucus meeting, at which we're going to be discussing our position on violence and non-violence, which is far more complex than I would have thought, a year ago.