That gnarly old Magnolia outside my bedroom window is looking good — for the first time in years.
And I am amazed this should be so, given the trials the tree has endured. First there was the long drought of 2006 with triple digit temperatures — then the one-two punch it suffered in 2007 — a crippling ice storm preceded by a sewer line replacement that sliced and diced deep roots on its western boundary. And as if these indignities weren’t enough, I delivered what I later feared to be its down-for-the-count knock-out when, in 2008, I severed two sides of feeder roots with my new flagstone path.
But today, under a gorgeous blue autumn sky, the Magnolia’s large waxy leaves cup sunshine while its coral seed pods look like Christmas lights shimmering across a full canopy.
In a polar-opposite way, my window view reminds me of other trees I saw today, getting spruced up for the holidays. Uptown on Western Avenue, patient, capable hands of a local landscape crew were busy stringing twinkling lights on a large number of tall trees bordering a large corporate campus. From tree trunk to limb to branch, the crews worked its way up to the big blue sky, covering each tree in tight ringlets of all shades of light.
Mother had a favorite saying about the life of “the rich,” and if any trees in our neck of the woods are “rich,” it’s these that live on the well-groomed grounds of Chesapeake Energy. Mom always spoke these words in response to my own observation of how beautiful some rich or famous person was — like Jackie O for instance — that I’d run across in the pages of a glossy magazine.
I’d say my “how pretty” bit. Then, Mom would look up from her sewing to peek at whoever had garnished my compliment — and without fail — she’d hmmph her way to a comeback: “It’s easy to look good when you’re rich. I’d look good too with her money.”
I never paid these particular words of Mom much mind. And today was no different — when I sat down to write for the first time in two weeks, Mother’s oft spoken words on the “rich and the beautiful” were the furthest thing from my mind. But rising out of the big blue yonder, they came home to roost in my Magnolia tree, with a will and life of their own.
As I sat contrasting the natural beauty of my poor Job tree against the gussied up beauty of the well-heeled trees of my rich neighbor, all I could think of was Mother’s same old words.
an everyday life 
Your mom had wisdom when it came to celebs. There are makeover programmes that show how you can turn a Plain Jane into a beauty queen with the right clothes and make up.
Deep down beauty though has little to do with wealth or status but with the soul and that cannot be faked or bought. I keep telling myself that when I have bad days and doubt my own self, let alone my actual beauty.
xx
Viv,
It’s true what you say about parental wisdom — it’s the sort that often sneaks upon us, that we don’t quite realize as coming to be part of who we are — until it comes out of hiding.
Yet there are other words we pick up as children we would have been better off to ignore — words that invade our souls like….
“Children are made to be seen and not heard.”
How hurtful it was to be at the end of this belittling scorpion sting. Even now, I recall the small details of that event.
These days, I’m thinking a lot of words spoken to children — of how they can serve to diminish or build one up “in the way they will go.” And through all the thinking, I’ve come to believe we are all better than we realize, and we are all better than has been realized. In other words, we’ve so much untapped potential for doing good — and because we fail to believe in our own goodness and beauty, in our own ability to make a difference, the good often goes undone.
I must do better at it. Like the Cowardly Lion, I need to say, “I do believe, I do believe….”
Janell
Janell
Your mother and mine are of similar minds. My mother always brought me back to reality when I gushed too much about worldly things. “Beauty is as beauty does” she would say.
I want to give you an update on Frank & I. We had a 6 month lease on our apartment in Lake Jackson so we moved out of it on Labor Day weekend and drove our last bit of furniture and stuff to OKC. We came back with only suitcases and have been staying with Margaret and Orren for the last few weeks of work. Frank’s last day was last Thursday (Sep 30th) and my last day was Friday (Oct 1). We were all ready to head to OKC on Saturday morning when Frank’s car broke down in Lake Jackson and had to be towed to Don Davis. Here is it Tuesday and we are still waiting on our car to be repaired. It took them all day Monday to determine we needed a new battery and an alternator. We are now waiting to see when they get the alternator in and installed. We have been so discouraged with this slow process. We were on such a high the past few weeks with lots of cards, gifts and parties wishing us well. We realize it is so much better to be here than stuck on the road somewhere with car trouble but we have been so anxious to get to Oklahoma it’s hard to be patient. I will call you when we get somewhat settled in. I would love to have you come to the house for a visit. Hope all is well with you and your family. I love to keep up with your blog.
God bless,
Carol
Carol,
I’m sorry to hear of your current car troubles — but isn’t it stories like these that keep life in perspective? With time and distance they will bring laughter… while in the here and now, they serve to remind us of how little in life we control. Hang in there… and in the meantime… store up on your favorite seafood.
I look forward to that visit when you guys are settled. Maybe Don and I can take you and Frank for dinner — along with your family, consider us part of your welcome wagon.
Thanks for your encouraging words on my blog. I know it’s there waiting for me… but for reasons difficult to describe, I’m having a hard time sitting down to it these days … it’s not exactly busyness… or major life hiccups (though like everyone, I experience these too.)
I pray you are soon on your way — crisp, beautiful autumn days and evenings await you.
Love,
Janell
I’ve read this so many times and couldn’t quite put my finger on what was nagging at me. Finally, this morning, it’s clear – envy.
There is so much nastiness going on in our political debate these days about “the rich”. It just drives me crazy. People who ought to know better keep putting forth this “equality” drivel, setting their own personal bars for who has “too much” of anything. I’ll pay more attention when the commentator making $500K tells me $250K is “enough”, rather than $501K. 😉
But to my point. Nothing in life is equal, and for any of us to attempt to make it so is necessarily to impose a dangerous, human agenda. I actually know people who argue that, because of the threat of global warming, we need to reduce the population by whatever means necessary. That means setting criteria for those who deserve to live and those who do not. We’re about three years away from seeing the same dynamic take over medical care of the elderly, unless something is done to stem the political tide.
Do the gussied-up trees of Western Avenue have a greater “right” to live than your poor magnolia? Of course not. But somewhere, I suspect, is someone willing to start swinging an ax.
Linda,
No envy here. And no axes to grind.
If anything lurked in the shadows beneath my words, it was that I was just plain pole-axed… on how words I paid such little mind to growing up have somehow stuck with me over the years. It set me to wondering what other thoughts and attitudes of others have stuck to me like lint on Velcro…
But isn’t it interesting how words we write and speak stray further than the boundaries of our intention?
Janell
Oh! My!
I see how you could have misinterpreted my words – I didn’t mean to imply you were feeling envy, or any of the rest of it. I’ve just been bumping up against person after person on other blogs who insist on going on about the wealthy, the priviledged, etc. Your story of the two trees reminded me of those people, most of whom seem to have an infinite grudge against the universe.
They truly can be tedious at times. 😉
Linda
Linda,
No harm, no foul. Your comment simply sent me to re-examine what undercurrents laid beneath my words — and that’s never a bad thing in my book. Funny how that final sentence from my first response applies equally well to the subject of our current exchange.
Don’t know about you — but I’m looking forward to celebrating another year of life real soon — and there’s nothing tedious about this. And I’m coming to Texas to do it — though it will be San Antonio rather than Houston this time around.
Janell