The Red Tree
There’s this beautiful red tree on campus. I’m not sure why but just last week, as I headed to class, I was enraptured by it.
All of its leaves were this gorgeously, vibrant red. I can’t describe it, really. You’d have to see it for yourself. But, its branches were spread out, letting only a few streaks of sunlight through and the light that didn’t make it through hit the leaves and made them glow.
It was spectacular. I actually stopped for a moment to admire it.
I passed by this tree most of the time, barely glancing in its direction, but today something felt so different about it. Inspiring.
Perhaps that’s what happens between people.
One day, no matter how long you’ve known each other, something changes. Maybe it’s the way the breeze played with their hair, how the sunlight framed their locks in an enchanting glow, their accent whether it be a smooth southern drawl or the sweetest squeak of a ‘hello’. Something caught your attention in a way it never did before.
It’s not like people don’t notice each other like I knew that tree was there all semester long. I passed by it so many times without a glance, but I knew it was there. I knew it was a beautiful tree without a doubt, but it never caught my attention, not once, like it had that day. And the day after that. And the next. And the next.
I’m not saying people take each other for granted, acknowledging them but never really looking, and I mean really looking at them. Not also saying that people don’t, but that’s beyond the point. It’s just like how the sky is blue and if you stare at the sun too long you’ll damage your eyes. Their presence is a fact that only became monumental that day when everything suddenly clicked.
Most of the time there’s no real change in what’s happening. That tree stood there before I even stepped on campus, with the sunlight acting as a spotlight to blur the background and focus on one of Mother Nature’s finest creations ever. It always has and most likely always will until the tree is removed or dies.
The wind has played with her hair before, the way he speaks is not different, but everything is just in a brighter and clearer perspective. As if God finally rolled his eyes, tired of your indifference or lack of interest, and told the nearest angel to get their butts down there and force your head to turn and your eyes to tell your brain what it exactly saw so that your heart can interpret that as something that is beyond compare to whatever society has deemed the sexiest man or woman alive.
Perhaps that’s love.
The red string tied to your pinky and there decides to inch its way closer and closer together, naturally tugging your hand along without you even noticing until your fingers touch and for once, you acknowledge that possibility that perhaps, this was just meant to be.
You may sit there wondering why it didn’t happen sooner. But, to be perfectly honest, if I had looked that tree weeks before, I probably wouldn’t have appreciated it the way I did. The way I still do.
Its beauty was revealed at the maximum opportunity to me, because that’s when I really needed to look and see that.
It got my butt in gear to get to class and actually do something.
Perhaps that’s why it was revealed when it was. So, that you would be inspired, see the world around you differently, see them differently. And that would push you to move forward, to run your hand through their hair, hold their hand, even pull them in close to you where they could feel your love at the most opportune time.
Because if that had been weeks or months before, it wouldn’t have felt the same. It wouldn’t burn you soul deep and your heart would have only been partially opened.
You never place an undercooked pie on a Thanksgiving table. You wait, whether you realize it or not, for it to have that golden crust that makes everyone’s mouth water.
Isn’t it strange and a bit funny, I got all this by staring at a beautiful red tree and truly appreciating it in that one moment?
