When I very first drove up to my October den, in those first few minutes after a long trip, I met a young man in the parking lot who asked if I was Paula.
I am not Paula.
But Paula is the one who wanted to hire the young man to cut down a tree that is growing very close to the back decks of this building.
It’s a beech tree.
It creaks in the wind.
It has a lot of activity going on.
There are wasps, two different kinds. Perhaps one or both are invasive.
There are a lot of flies, too, crawling around on the leaves.
Those leaves are pretty chewed up, but the tree still looks more or less ok. It’s still putting out leaf buds and it reaches up to the sun.
A song sparrow pair spend a lot of time in the branches of a morning. I don’t know what they’re eating, but they are very busy. The other day, I heard and then saw some finches in there, equally busy.
At night, moths are zip in and around the branches. Maybe they’re an invasive species, too.
There is a vine encircling bits of the tree. Pretty sure that’s invasive, pretty sure.
When this hub is gone, all that activity will have to move elsewhere if it can.
I pay close attention to this tree every day. I feel like I want to bear witness to all the kinds of life it sustains, including itself.
Its beautiful gray-green trunk. The sky through its branches. Tips of twigs wreathed in fog.
With all these invasives eating it, this tree was probably doomed before Paula got after it, and maybe that death would have been more painful than a quick removal. I don’t know. But there’s a lot of life in and around that tree that I get to watch every day.
I like the way the tree creaks in the wind.
I like the way the sparrows move through its branches, fluffing their feathers, giving themselves a nice scratch, moving in and out of view.
I like the flutter of the moths, the zzzzzmmmm of the wasps.
I like how the branches are sturdy and wavy even if a bunch of the leaves are gnawed up.
I feel a kinship with this doomed tree. Like me, it doesn’t know when it’s going to go. It stands there as best it can, weathering the invasives and the wind and the sun and the sweet sparrows, the flitting finches. It does the best it can.
Blessings on you, doomed tree!
And blessings on me and blessings on you, stalwart swaying proud and leafy femme sisters!
No one knows when the time will come.
But until then.
Grow.
Every Monday I offer a Meditation for Queer Femmes, in the spirit of my maternal grandmother, Mimi, who was fabulous, and from whom I inherited her Meditations for Women.
At the Total Femme, my intention has been to post three times a week: Meditations for Queer Femmes on Monday, Pingy-Dingy Wednesday on Wednesday, and Femme Friday on Friday. Lately, I’ve just been concentrating on Mondays. And sometimes weeks go by… I’m here, though. I’m here. Do you have a post you’d like to share? That would be fucking awesome! Contact me at thetotalfemme@gmail.com