4 December 2008. Wind and snow pummel the little evergreen as it clings to its perch on the side of a sandstone cliff. The rock holds the tree in its cleft, gently, protectively, though with a restraint dictated by its rigidity. This is the rock's nature--to hold back, motionless, shaped slowly by wind and rain and time to a purpose it does not consider.The tree will live a long life, but the rock will proceed at a pace that is glacial. The tree will come to an end long before the rock crumbles, but both will disappear in time, and appear again, elsewhere, in the twinkling of God's eye. We will, I think, be in both places, both times.
In the meantime, you and I look on, capture a moment like this, here and there, from time to time, and think much of ourselves. Foolish we are in a way that the tree and the rock are not. We struggle, while they obey. They do not strive uselessly. They do not rage against the darkness or press needlessly into the storm. They simply endure, according to their natures.
We do also, but with much opinion and manipulation, often lacking the dignity of a rock or a tree. Rocks and trees are not distracted by what we call a higher consciousness. We should consult them about our affliction. We might then learn something of our origin and our destination.
