Bowing Branches

I began walking a new route.
The beauty of the scenery is spectacular.
This spring has been delightful.
If I could place an order for the perfect day, it would be the kind of days we have been having.

The sky is brilliant blue without any clouds.
The humidity is quite low.
A gentle breeze blows this way and that.
The trees have buds that are waiting to burst forth.

As I walked, I thought of the promise of spring.
The promise of new life after a winter of grayness.
The birds that sing, the squirrels that scurry, and the barn cats that come out to say hello.
Days like this make you feel even more alive.

As I walked down a steep hill and approached the bottom, I saw the old tree.
It was magnificent; it stood regally next to a pond.
It was stately yet it seemed to have tales to tell.
How I wish I could hear about all the things it must have seen.

Two large, gnarly limbs seemed to bow down before me.
I have never seen such large limbs in such a position.
The two limbs actually touched the ground.
They looked like two arms beckoning me on this path.

I saw some children and their mothers playing near the pond.
The little boys had long sticks and were pretending to fish in the water.
I wondered if they saw this tree.
If they had, they would surely want to climb on it.

It would be easy to do.
They could climb on the bowing branches like they would climb on a rock in a field.
I confess that I have never climbed a tree.
I never had a desire to climb one.

However, seeing these low branches, I was tempted.
I took out my phone and snapped a picture.
As I walked closer, I saw the sign: Please Keep Off Tree Limbs.
Apparently other people had the same idea.

I was sad that the sign was there but I understood.
This historic farm was initially part of a William Penn Manor.
It has been in agricultural use since the early 1700s.
The farm is picturesque in each season.

Within [the] historic landscape of fenced fields, stone walls and misty morning vistas is a preserved patchwork of colonial plantation, Industrial Revolution era scientific farm, Victorian tenant farm, and gentleman’s country estate.

The description of the farm does not do it justice.
When I walk around the grounds, up and down all the hills, I realize history was made here.
That tree was there when William Penn was here.
I think I could forego sitting on the tree limbs.

It was just a little sign: wooden, rustic, and blending into the rural landscape.
The sign was to be obeyed nonetheless.
But trees beg to be climbed on.
And ponds beg to be fished in, even with large sticks found nearby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Temptation is all around us.
Even in something as small and insignificant as climbing on a tree limb.
Signs with rules are scattered about.
They come in all shapes and sizes but they need to be heeded.

But no one will know.
No one will see.
It doesn’t matter in the scheme of things, we try to convince ourselves.
Oh, but it does matter!

What shall we say then? Is the law sin? Certainly not! Indeed I would not have known what sin was except through the law. For I would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, “Do not covet.” But sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, produced in me every kind of covetous desire. For apart from the law, sin is dead. (Romans 7:7,8)

I thought of that verse when I walked past the tree.
I never even climbed a tree but those bowing branches seemed to call to me.
I knew I shouldn’t sit on the branches.
But then there was the sign: Please Keep Off Tree Limbs, which made me want to do it more.

I obeyed.
I didn’t sit on the bowing branches.
But I wanted to.
I really wanted to.

I went further down the path, down another steep hill.
On both sides of me were woods with little flowers peeking through the sticks and vines.
What I noticed most were the rocks; hundreds of rocks.
I thought of the people who would have had to clear the land of these rocks in order to build.

Massive rocks, smaller rocks; the woods were filled with them.
Then I thought of Jesus.

When He came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen…Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke Your disciples!” “I tell you,” He replied, “if they keep quiet the stones will cry out.” (Luke 19:37,39,40)

There I was, walking on a path with woods on either side of me.
There in the woods were hundreds of rocks.
The glorious day, the magnificence of God’s creation was so apparent.
All I could do was worship Him.

I heard it on the gentle breeze.
The rocks seemed to cry out praise and glory to His name.
I walked back up the steep hill towards my car.
I was singing.