Beanery Online Literary Magazine

February 18, 2009

AN OAK TREE MARKS THE PLACE

BEANERY WRITERS GROUP

AN OAK TREE MARKS THE PLACE

Tim Landy

In my front yard stands a large, hundred-year old white oak tree. Its branches reach more than thirty feet up and out to the sky and its roots anchor it deep into the rocky hillside. Each year, little by little, the tree grows, obeying its own ancient genetic script.

Sometimes I wonder what my life experiences would be like without this leafy friend. I watch countless birds seek shelter in its branches and am entertained by gray squirrels and white-tailed deer dining on bushels of acorns in the deep dark of early mornings. And what would my memory be like without the sound of a northeaster roaring through the leafless branches?                                                —a Tim Landy recollection

     Most of us have such a tree or some other special object, place, experience or story which, when we recall it, brings us a sense of meaning, a sense of longing and belonging, a sense of joy. Numbered among our treasures, these mementos help carry us through the storms and blights of our lives. They offer us hope.
     This year the Foothills Writers Group (a former writers group that met in Mt. Pleasant) wrote about things that touched them at a deep level: heritage, tradition, childhood, family.
     Like the oak tree, each Foothill’s writer had his or her own storytelling “rings.” They drew on their power of memory and imagination to create, in various genres, forms, voices and styles—from poetry to essay to short story, devotion and even E-mail—a tapestry of their lives and minds.
     The Foothill’s writers desired not only to entertain you, but to encourage you to reach into your own heritage in search of hope and strength to bear you up in these difficult times.
======================================================
     In my front yard stands a large white oak tree. Its branches reach more than thirty feet up and out to the sky, Its roots are anchored deep in the rocky hillside. Each year, little by little, it grows, obeying its own ancient genetic script.
     In my front yard stands a large white oak tree. Its branches reach more than thirty feet up and out to the sky, Its roots are anchored deep in the rocky hillside. Each year, little by little, it grows, obeying its own ancient genetic script.
     Sometimes I wonder what my life experiences would be like without this leafy friend which, for nearly a hundred years, has sheltered countless birds and yielded bushels of acorns for t he gray squirrels and white-tailed deeper that come each fall and winter to eat in the deep dark of early morning. And what would my memory be like without the sound of a northeaster roaring through the leafless branches?
     All of us have such a tree or some other special object, place, experience or story which, when we recall it, brings a sense of meaning, a sense of longing and belonging, a sense of joy. Hope. Numbered among our treasures, these mementos help bring us through the storms and blights of our lives. The Foothills Writers have written about the very things that touch our lives on a deep level: heritage, tradition, childhood, family. Through the power of memory, imagination and creativity, we have woven together the many lines of our lives and minds into a tapestry of genres, forms, voices and styles—from poetry to essay to short story, devotion and even e-mail.
     Like the oak tree with its series of storytelling rings, its branches and leaves drawing life from the air above, and its roots drawing life from the ground, we, too, have our own “stories” to share.

ADDITIONAL READING:

HOW TO MARKET YOUR BOOK ONLINE 

INTEGRITY: A JOURNALISTIC CODE OF ETHICS REVIEW

JOURNALISM QUESTION

JOURNALIST ETHICS CONCERNING THE RECEIPT OF GIFTS

WRITER’S CALLS FOR SUBMISSIONS, COMPETITIONS & EVENTS: Feb. 5, 2009

STOKING THE COALS

FIRST, DO NO HARM…THE SULEMAN OCTUPLET CASE

LAUREL HIGHLANDS

ESCAPING THE DEVIL’S GRIP

CANDIED VIOLETS: Remembering My Mother on Her Birthday

CHILD ABUSE CREATES VICTIMIZATION

CHARACTERISTICS OF ABUSIVE FAMILIES

THOSE WHO DO EVIL HAVE NOT SEEN GOD: A Devotion on Child Abuse

SITE LINKS:

www.beanerywriters.wordpress.com/

www.carolyncholland.wordpress.com

http://www.flickr.com/photos/carolyncholland/2810322370/    Ligonier Calendar front

www.laurelmountainboro.wordpress.com

www.LVWonline.org

www.ellenspain.com

http://www.barbarapurbaugh.com

www.ligonierliving.blogspot.com

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3 Comments »

  1. Tim,

    These are lovely words and a fresh reminder.

    May your cup be filled to over flowing…

    Thank you for sharing.

    Comment by Regina — March 7, 2009 @ 2:37 pm | Reply

  2. Sorry. I pasted the message twice! That’s a reminder to me that I’m imperfect. And that’s a good thing!

    Comment by Regina — March 7, 2009 @ 2:39 pm | Reply

  3. No problem. We are all so called “imperfect,” since we are all “human,” and the nature of being human is imperfectness. Thank you for commenting, Regina. Nice to have you back! Carolyn

    Comment by beanerywriters — March 7, 2009 @ 2:49 pm | Reply


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