Hidden beneath the haste

Posted on June 24, 2007 by rasqual.
Categories: Personal.

We have a mulberry tree between ours and the neighbor’s house. I let it grow a few years ago, despite misgivings about its roots being so close to both homes. Each year I’ve pruned it in accord less with expertise than with intuition, in order to keep its growth under control and maximize berry production. Something fun for the kids to pick, I tell myself.

Actually it’s entirely for me, as it turns out. I find myself walking by the thing with my mind on a million other things, and I’m drawn to it. The berries are frequently difficult to see — but they’re there, and there’re lots of ‘em.

Mulberries

When I’m looking for mulberries, it’s an exercise in leaving the world behind. I can’t penetrate the hidden recesses of this tree without feeling a sense of privacy impossible in the world of instant messaging, fast commuting, and blog comments. It’s like discoving that the secret hiding places of childhood have never really went away. The secrets, however, are no longer my own, as in childhood. They’re the trees — and the tree isn’t speaking much about it all. Just offering its fruit, as ever, to any comer willing to leave some things behind for a while.

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