We didn’t worry about the cat being stuck because have you ever seen a cat skeleton in a tree?
I’ve heard the “treehugger” sneer often enough in my life, and it makes no sense to me.
As if valuing the resources and beauty in nature is bad. As if having some housepride in our common home, Earth, and keeping it looking and functioning well is foolish.
As if simply not metaphorically pooping where we all live and eat is a terrible idea.
As if trashing things is a higher good and leaving a useless garbage pit to our grandchildrens’ grandchildren is wise.
Stop and think, sneerers. And then maybe go out and hug a tree. It feels good.
Children (my 2 youngest, 3 and 5) in the shadow of a gnarled ancient of a gum tree, with an electrical substation lurking behind.
Kind of a metaphor for our world, isn’t it?
As a bonus, the yellow vest is a Batman vest and the brown jacket is a print of Chewbacca’s torso. Geek life FTW.
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.