Light is beginning to dawn on me (as well as this tree) that this tree silhouette that I’m so fond of is actually a silhouette of dead branches not just a bare tree in winter and early spring.
I’ve been coming here since late Fall and thought the leaves had just fallen off remarkably evenly. Scientist, I’m not–this is clear.
It interests me this odd gap in observation that I have. This blind spot, I’ll call it, amidst a rather 360 degree steadily revolving head turning this way and that throughout the day.
Odd. Me, the professional observer, can totally miss the point.
The properties of this tree, its essential truth, I missed. It’s shape and the possibilities of the sky painting the background was all I needed to know in order to photograph it.
I am suspicious now of this blind spot in my field of vision. It is one of my core traits as I’ve come to find out from these past three seasons of discontent in America, the world, and my world.
There are times when this trait fits the chaos and allows for modification of expectations and the ability to grind on with equanimity, but at other times, it just makes me feel like, “Wow. I’m clueless.”
I’m going to act as if. In fact, I’m going “owl”.
Easily spooked, I take to the air suddenly and head west.
O, wait. American’s already done that. In fact, I did that back in 1967 when I moved to San Francisco.
So, maybe I’ll just head west, circle slowly over Medway and Bellingham like I know what the hell I’m doing and then come back to my favorite dead tree when night falls.
©Pat Coakley 2009
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” I rejoice that there are owls…they represent the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all men have.” ~Henry David Thoreau …
Can I say it any more succinctly than HDT? We all rejoice that there is YOU.
Owls have baffle feathers that focus sounds into their ears. ( something I learned as a docent at the Central Park Zoo ). So maybe you think your eyes miss some things but your ears and your brain? Not very much.
Great starkness in that lone tree-
There’s a great scene in Under the Tuscan Sun where an electrical storm hits the Tuscan farmhouse and an owl flies into the bedroom, seeking shelter. The following morning, the storm has passed, the owl has gone and the sky is blue. Interesting when you think of the similarities to what we’re going through right now. Keep looking for the blue sky, Pat. It has to return sooner or later.
I think we all have blind spots, some more obvious (and harmful) than others. I know many people who would see only a dead tree, useless, needs to be cut down… missing its essential nature as a resting spot for an owl, for our eyes, and a meaningful silhouettte against a changing sky. You may know more of the essence of that tree than he who sees only a dead tree. So yes, take flight, head west to survey the neighborhood and return to your perch wiser and refreshed.