The other day, during the church workday, I took my brand new machete out back behind the church and thought I'd give some of the overgrown brush a good thwacking.
I lasted about two minutes and then came back around the front of the church to hand the machete off to someone who could better use it.
"How did it work?" Pastor Debbie asked me.
"It worked fine," I told her. "It is not the problem. The user is the problem."
The best I had been able to do was chop a few twigs, something any child could have done with their bare hands.
The palms had been the problem. They are aggressive growers, sprouting out over the trail. And try as I might to prune them back, the machete bounced off the stalks sending the palm fronds slicing through the air, like nature's version of Freddy Kruger, right back at me.
Getting smacked by a palm frond is not pleasant.
Who would have thought? They seem so benign waving through the air on Palm Sunday.
That's why I love the soft things of nature. Florida is filled with prickly things, pines and palms, but also soft things like the flowers I've been taking pictures of. The prickly things survive longer. The palms and pines always survive the winter. The flowers seem to wilt and drop away at the first sign of the summer sun rising.
But the flowers also return.
When I was a kid, my mom planted a lilac bush by the garage in the backyard. It took years before it started to flower.
Years.
Who has patience for that?
But we have to.
In a way the pines and palms of this world represent our day to day lives. The palms and pines are survivors, but at what cost? No one admires them. People push through them or around them, or cut them back.
While flowering plants and other colorful and soft things of nature represent our hope, returning sometimes when we least expect it.
I lasted about two minutes and then came back around the front of the church to hand the machete off to someone who could better use it.
"How did it work?" Pastor Debbie asked me.
"It worked fine," I told her. "It is not the problem. The user is the problem."
The best I had been able to do was chop a few twigs, something any child could have done with their bare hands.
The palms had been the problem. They are aggressive growers, sprouting out over the trail. And try as I might to prune them back, the machete bounced off the stalks sending the palm fronds slicing through the air, like nature's version of Freddy Kruger, right back at me.
Getting smacked by a palm frond is not pleasant.
Who would have thought? They seem so benign waving through the air on Palm Sunday.
That's why I love the soft things of nature. Florida is filled with prickly things, pines and palms, but also soft things like the flowers I've been taking pictures of. The prickly things survive longer. The palms and pines always survive the winter. The flowers seem to wilt and drop away at the first sign of the summer sun rising.
But the flowers also return.
When I was a kid, my mom planted a lilac bush by the garage in the backyard. It took years before it started to flower.
Years.
Who has patience for that?
But we have to.
In a way the pines and palms of this world represent our day to day lives. The palms and pines are survivors, but at what cost? No one admires them. People push through them or around them, or cut them back.
While flowering plants and other colorful and soft things of nature represent our hope, returning sometimes when we least expect it.
Comments
Post a Comment