Or maybe it was the tree.
I was out on my morning jaunt through Bryan Park, just as the sun was glowing yellow behind the trees, sparking life into creatures and growing things. The white cloudy fog was suspended in a content hover over the grassy field, among the swingsets, through the branches. I had to sprint through it, arms wide. Flying, of course.
Near the end of my loop, I decided to do a bit of conditioning, and almost did pull-ups on the workout equipment, but then thought better of that silly idea when I saw a perfectly good pine tree, with branches like a ladder, soaring up into the sky. Much better. I'm gonna call it a stinky pine from now on. It didn't have that fresh pine smell... just sorta... it had a stinky-sorta-fresh scent to it. Probably similar to my scent after a workout. Anyways, the stinky-pine beckoned me and I loved it.
So I climbed up, and I sat. And I talked to God. And I sat. And when I'm having a hard time focusing on the world around me, I just put all of my energy into looking at one single thing, such as the bark on the tree that looked like fingerprints left there by Indians long ago. And then I followed my eyes as they went down the branch, wondering over the hardened sap bubbles, sitting upon the surface of the wood. And there it was, a soft white trickling of breath gently flowing over the tree branch. I stopped breathing for a moment, just in case it was my own breath I was seeing. But it kept flowing, like a slow-motion waterfall. Sweetly breathing wind. Life, alive. God reminding me that He is indeed alive, that He is indeed Good, He is indeed very much real. Even the wind breathes. Or maybe it was the tree. Life, alive.
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