scarred

Trees intrigue me. From the shape and coloration of their leaves to the texture and patterns of their bark, to the height and expansion of their limbs, I can spend several minutes communing with a tree. Sometimes, as I’m walking, I look up and the knots and cuts seem to resemble faces greeting me as I pass or the boughs are curved as if the tree is reaching out to embrace me. During my visit to the Botanic Gardens last week, I came upon a huge specimen whose branches climbed far into the air; my neck got stiff from looking up to take in the beauty in its entirety. As I lowered my gaze, I noticed lots of peeling and scarring creating intricate designs that spoke to me on the upload review. This piece is entitled “the lash”.

Slavery is a topic that so many tend to avoid though the scars from that period remain amongst us today. A charter member of the National Museum of African American History and Culture (nmaahc.si.edu) in Washington, DC which will address that part of history, I anticipate the autumn opening to see just how it will be done. Trees could tell part of the Underground Railroad story. Yesterday, I became aware of America’s Black Holocaust Museum in Alabama (abhmuseum.org) built to bring front and center lynching, a subject that in this present day is pretty much dismissed and ignored. Trees could tell a huge part of this story.

We the people must acknowledge the entire history of this country; be appreciative of the contributions and respectful of the sacrifices made by each group of people in a land that long ago began its growth of cultural diversity. There is no turning back.

If only trees could talk…well actually they do. You can hear them if you…

keep your peepers open!®

scarred