The Man Who Stares at Trees
I tweeted this, too. Not that it made the scene any more or less relaxing.
When I’m not blogging about the other stuff I write (Look to your right! In the sidebar! Links for the ebooks and paperbacks I write!), I often write about the things that relax me.
Because this dirty old world can be really annoying. The news is full of injustice and war (really large-area injustice, mostly). The internet is bristling with trolls. Outside, some jackass is leaning on his horn for no particular reason as he drives by. The cat horked up a hairball on the porch. Both little ones get sudden urges that, as I write a blog entry, my trackball MUST be knocked off the armrest of my chair. Stuff happens. And I, grumpy old man in a merely middle-aged body, have a hard time letting annoying stuff go.
I NEED my diversions. The tiny little ferny scene above is one of them. My potted trees.
Notice that I didn’t say bonsai. Because they’re not bonsai, not quite. They’re styled similarly. I watch them month after month, year after year; I watch them grow and I trim them back in ways that encourage them to grow into new and more interesting shapes. They’re in flowerpots, not bonsai pots. They’re planted in plain old soil, not the carefully sifted medium you plant a bonsai in. They don’t have to be watered daily. They’re psuedo-bonsoids for slightly lazy people.
Sitting down and just looking at them is one of the things that relaxes me. Look at that picture. There’s a tiny little world of itty-bitty ferns taking shelter in the exposed roots of one of my myrtles. Isn’t that beautiful?
I think it’s beautiful. And beautiful things relax me.
So does blogging about stuff like this. Thus, this entry. I hope you liked it.