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I wanted to write a blog today. I wanted to write a good one that would make my friends feel closer to me and my posts more looked forward to by my readers and me more...popular. But as I reached for my mouse I realized I had nothing to say. No moving words, no great profound thoughts. I could do another montage of random thoughts about how I like my new earrings, the new whole grain poptarts, and my new favorite teaching funny, but I don't feel like philosophizing about myself today. I just feel like being her.

But I really should post, because I finally bothered to learn how to post pictures. I've always been too lazy to learn. It took me all of ten seconds. We'll pretend my old-fashioned text-only blog was that way because I was stragically waiting, figuring that the longer I waited, the easier they'd make it for me.

So here I am, left with increased ability to express myself through pictures, the urge to express something, and no real thought yearning to be expressed. So I typed "expression" into Getty Images, hoping to find something that would say what I didn't know i wanted to. It gave me thousands of pictures that all said all sorts of things, but nothing that "expressed" anything to me. So I typed in "beauty" and got a large assortment of beautiful people and some scenery. This got me closer. I opened a picture of a tree in a new tab, then typed in "green." After a moment and a smile I added "wind."

Now I was getting closer.  





That aching feeling of wordless expression, like something is passing directly in and out of my heart without words, is one that belongs to green, wind, trees, and the stillness of thought when we close our eyes and feel the world around us.

So I added "leaves."  Now there were only 54 results.  

So I kept looking, searching places I knew they would hide pictures of windy stillnesses and sunny shadows, greens and reds flashing accross the screen as I "thumbed" through the virutal pages.   I never found the perfect picture.  So instead I'll leave you with two poems.

Trees--Joyce Kilmer

I THINK that I shall never see  
A poem lovely as a tree.  
  
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest  
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;  
  
A tree that looks at God all day, 5
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;  
  
A tree that may in summer wear  
A nest of robins in her hair;  
  
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;  
Who intimately lives with rain. 10
  
Poems are made by fools like me,  
But only God can make a tree.

 

e.e. cummings
 
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)