2007_0914 The Creek at Pine Cree
WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES
by Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
I wasn't planning to pair this photo with a poem, but it seemed to express what I don't have words for today. I am not among the trees very often, anymore; when I am - when I find myself there - sometimes I... find myself. You know, some of the lost parts. Few of us are whole, or fully integrated beings, except perhaps for fleeting moments. We wander through life, often perplexed. And each of us has an inner life, a core that lies mostly unrevealed to the outside world. This may seem presumptuous, but I think what we are trying to do here, in this community forum, with our photos and sometimes words, too, is to make some aspects of ourselves known. I am not referring to sordid or sensational details, necessarily. Rather, what we photograph is usually what we love, what we are drawn to, what we want to offer our friends here. Some part of ourselves.
I like my daily life. My solitary nature is just who I am, and I am comfortable with that. I make time for friends. Yesterday I repaired a window frame, dug up the first of four beds of garlic from the garden, processed a few photos, co-ordinated some plans for the coming week - just the stuff of basic everyday regular real life. And that was fine. Today, though, I am starting to feel restless, and tomorrow I probably will want to be among the trees, or the prairie equivalent, out on the grasslands beneath the immense sky. Two superficially different experiences that are in essence similar: they ground me. They remind me of my transient life; they allow me to experience what Oscar Wilde called "the intense sensation of living" - without distractions - if only for a few hours.
We didn't know the name of this creek, which flowed right past our tents last week at Pine Cree. Didn't notice it in any of the info available there. The other day I finally looked it up, or rather, noticed it when I geotagged the first uploaded photo from this location. It's Swift Current Creek, near its headwaters, a long way from the small city of the same name (where I have to go to pick up most supplies). That's cool, I thought. But while I was there, it was equally cool to not know its name, to take it in without the label. The names of things, after all, can be mere distractions that separate us from their essence.
Photographed at Pine Cree Regional Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2020 James R. Page - all rights reserved.
2007_0914 The Creek at Pine Cree
WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES
by Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
I wasn't planning to pair this photo with a poem, but it seemed to express what I don't have words for today. I am not among the trees very often, anymore; when I am - when I find myself there - sometimes I... find myself. You know, some of the lost parts. Few of us are whole, or fully integrated beings, except perhaps for fleeting moments. We wander through life, often perplexed. And each of us has an inner life, a core that lies mostly unrevealed to the outside world. This may seem presumptuous, but I think what we are trying to do here, in this community forum, with our photos and sometimes words, too, is to make some aspects of ourselves known. I am not referring to sordid or sensational details, necessarily. Rather, what we photograph is usually what we love, what we are drawn to, what we want to offer our friends here. Some part of ourselves.
I like my daily life. My solitary nature is just who I am, and I am comfortable with that. I make time for friends. Yesterday I repaired a window frame, dug up the first of four beds of garlic from the garden, processed a few photos, co-ordinated some plans for the coming week - just the stuff of basic everyday regular real life. And that was fine. Today, though, I am starting to feel restless, and tomorrow I probably will want to be among the trees, or the prairie equivalent, out on the grasslands beneath the immense sky. Two superficially different experiences that are in essence similar: they ground me. They remind me of my transient life; they allow me to experience what Oscar Wilde called "the intense sensation of living" - without distractions - if only for a few hours.
We didn't know the name of this creek, which flowed right past our tents last week at Pine Cree. Didn't notice it in any of the info available there. The other day I finally looked it up, or rather, noticed it when I geotagged the first uploaded photo from this location. It's Swift Current Creek, near its headwaters, a long way from the small city of the same name (where I have to go to pick up most supplies). That's cool, I thought. But while I was there, it was equally cool to not know its name, to take it in without the label. The names of things, after all, can be mere distractions that separate us from their essence.
Photographed at Pine Cree Regional Park, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2020 James R. Page - all rights reserved.