A Sculpture Of Time Itself

Mar 9, 2018

There’s a twisted tree outside my window. The bark is peeling. There are gashes, like open wounds. The limbs are gnarled, covered with small, round, bulges.

I see a monument to time and aging and think about how the human frame is much like this tree. Those bumps are like moles and blemishes -- beauty marks some would say, but many still see them as intrusions.

On this tree, however, they are respectful. They add dimension to the mystery and patterns of nature. They add beauty to a living sculpture. Nature’s art.

I look at this bent, old friend and know it will fall or lean away too far someday. Like all of us, I guess.

So … should we not stand the same —as people?

Like that tree, each of us have limbs also scarred or twisted by storm and seasons and time. Ooooh, the lessons time teaches -- lessons that seem clear as I look at this tree.

We all grow where we are planted. We all cling to what nurtures us and reach and search for more. We all break or bend from what whips, and pushes and pulls and tries to shape us. We all shelter and grow inside our own bark, a shell that often hides the real beauty.

And those wrinkles, the trenches under the eyes and leathered skin, become our final sculpture. The bumps and bulges and gashes and bending spine stand as proof of how far we have come with roots that gripped and grew.

We become like that gnarled tree. A sculpture of time itself, still standing as a monument to real beauty.

Truly ... nature’s art.

I’m Lonny Cain, and that’s my perspective.