Of Trees and Storms

I stare out the window on a overcast winter morning.  So.  There's a new sheriff in town.  And like those old Western movies, it can go either way. 

     I voted for the old Sheriff.  Others voted for the new.  I was ready to get my undies in a bundle when the proof of the allegations came in...and were ignored.

     I take a deep pull of The Elixir of Knowledge.  Now we stand on the cusp of a new Administration with the backing of both Houses.  The Elixir pulls out a 33 1/3 memory from an old black & white TV show the family used to watch:

     "...and AWAAAAAY we go!"

     But I don't think this will be a comedy.

     Another swig washes the memory away, only to replace it with something i read early this morning.  The image of a tree. And it’s not growing in Brooklyn..

     Huh.  From Sitcoms to Dendrology.  That's a different kinda leap.

     But this was not just any tree.  It was a special tree, planted in a special place.  It’s the tree found three verses into the Book of Psalms.

     Quite the tree.  And the reason it's flourishing is the fertilizer that is liberally applied in verses one and two.

     A tree firmly planted.  Bearing fruit.  Weathering the storm.  Keepin' on keepin' on.

     Another draught brings up a bit of the eulogy at the funeral of Peggy Carter in the movie, "Captain America: Civil War":

     ”Compromise where you can. And where you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right, even if the whole world is telling you to move. It is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say, no. You move.”

     Huh. A tree. Like Cap. Like Antipas of Pergamum.

     Okay.  I get it. 

     My job isn't to rail at the weather.  Or scream at the storm.  My job is to be that tree.  Bearing fruit.  Firmly planted.  And unmoving from the place and grace it's planted in. Weathering the storm.

     I drain the last of The Elixir then turn back to my life.

‘Nuff said.