Set Through the Trees

The world is a strange place, and we are strange beings. Most of the time we think that the world is continually trying to tell us what we should think about it. But really we’re just us talking to ourselves. It’s the outcome of our nature combined with our experiences telling us that our lenses aren’t quite focused. “Adjust them and you’ll see the world better.” Will we listen?

Adjusting our lenses and seeing a better world is simple — we just have to look at it as it is. There are leaves of soft, vibrant green that grow on the deciduous trees that break the monotony of an open view and give shape to the sky. Birds, perched on the branches of the trees, show us the beauty of contrast, of flight and repose. And the sun illuminates it all so we can put our lenses to good use.

As the sun cycles through the sky it offers us different vantages. The morning sky casted a pink that morphs to orange bids us to start our day with wonder. High above us, the midday sun goads us to strive, to build, to toil, to grow. In the evening the pinks and the oranges return, asking us to stop and pay attention, to return to that sense of wonder before we close our day.

Before the sun rests after a daily job well done, taking its light with it to the other side of the world, it pauses for a moment on the low horizon before it says goodnight. It sets itself and asks us to observe and asks us to reflect.

“You’ve seen the sun set through the trees. What more could you want?”