Only the stump remains.
The week before the official arrival of spring, I told you how excited I was to see winter make its exit for a new season of renewal and hope. I posted pictures of blloming daffodils and flowering plum trees.
To my surprise (and to everyone else’s where I live) , a heavy snowstorm struck the day after the spring solstice began. While it is rare for Oregon to have snow on the floor of the Willamette Valley, it is even rarer to have six inches fall in March. Everything slowed to a stop—except the tree pruners. Those companies were suddenly pressed into service, for the heavy wet blanket that fell left unsuspecting giants dropping their limbs like soldiers their rifles on a battlefield.
This week, nearly four weeks after the storm, the city crew came to clean up the trees broken on our street. The tree that had bloomed so prettily before the storm was reduced to a stump. The arborist apologized. The branches had split at the trunk leaving no hope for the faithful plum.
The Bible talks of the frailty of all life. In Ecclesiastes 3:1-4, 11 Solomon writes:
“To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven.
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted;
A time to kill, And time to heal;
A time to break down, And a time to build up;
A time to weep, And a time to laugh,
A time to mourn, And a time to dance. . .
God has made everything beautiful in its time.”
So it is for all of us. We have been given this day, this hour, this minute to bloom for our heavenly Father. Let us use the time we have been given to share ourselves with those who need what we have to offer.
The plum tree knew why it was here. To bloom every spring and brighten my world. To shade me in the summer. To drop its plums on my car in the fall. It will be missed, but it had finished its task and so must I.
Life goes on, the camellias are blooming, their lovely pink blossoms captured by my camera this morning. Thanks for dropping by. See you next week.