Skinny Finger Tree
The image in The Magic Tea Cup was so faint this morning I didn't think it would show up well in a photo. It could have been two things--a star or a stick figure with wild hair. Alternatives would have been a starfish or a sand dollar but in any case it was so pale I didn't shoot it. I just smiled and made another cup of tea.
The angle of the earth to the sun has finally shifted enough that I make it home just before the sun sets. When I leave my office the sun is flirting with the horizon and making a spectacle of sinking out of sight. Instead of photographing yet another breathtaking sunset mural I have begun to turn away from the sun and look at the face of other things in the fading light; sort of watching the rest of the earth watch the sun set. It's similar to watching someone's face as they are watching something else. Observing the observer, if you will. I used to love to do this as a kid in church. I would wait until deep into the sermon to turn around and take a peek at the congregation behind me. I used to do it in movie theatres too but folks find it a bit unnerving when they catch me.
It's not really the same as watching someone sleep; that's a completely different observance. Watching someone watching/listening without seeing me do it is immeasurably intriguing to me. I've seen things in their faces and body language that surprised me. Anyway, as I was leaving work the other night I was doing my usual turnabout from the sunset and saw this tree at the edge of the parking lot. I had already started the car but the image of the skinny little fingers of this tree against the sky made me turn the engine off, get out, grab the camera, and make it art.
The sunset that day was lavender. As many times as I had noticed the sun setting I had never noticed this funky little tree though I pass it every day. Instead of having many branches it just has these few but then there all these tendril branches covering them like reef coral or twining veins. They are very stiff and wiry but in silhouette against the sky they look almost wispy. It is also one of those trees that grew up right on the fence line so it has slowly become part of the fence. Without its leaves it looks like a skinny evening sentinel at his post. Every day since I took these pictures my eyes now seek out the funny tree first when I leave for the evening. The sunset comes after.
I called it The Skinny Finger Tree because I imagined it reaching out in the dwindling sunlight to catch the last bit of warmth the way we extend our hands toward a fire to warm them. Today The Skinny Finger Tree is wearing a cape of fog and we can't feel the sun at all. Yesterday I was sweating through my dress after my lunch hour run but not today. Today the cold is seeping up through the concrete to clutch at my feet while my back and shoulders pulse with the effort of last night's yoga. I feel as stiff as The Skinny Finger Tree but there is a warm core beneath that is longing to be stoked with bowls of beans and silky cheese. I am resting today and pressing fluffy things against me with skinny tree fingers until I can feel those veins of heat reaching down to my feet and hands. Enjoy your weekend, my friends.
(c) 2012, ACG
The angle of the earth to the sun has finally shifted enough that I make it home just before the sun sets. When I leave my office the sun is flirting with the horizon and making a spectacle of sinking out of sight. Instead of photographing yet another breathtaking sunset mural I have begun to turn away from the sun and look at the face of other things in the fading light; sort of watching the rest of the earth watch the sun set. It's similar to watching someone's face as they are watching something else. Observing the observer, if you will. I used to love to do this as a kid in church. I would wait until deep into the sermon to turn around and take a peek at the congregation behind me. I used to do it in movie theatres too but folks find it a bit unnerving when they catch me.
It's not really the same as watching someone sleep; that's a completely different observance. Watching someone watching/listening without seeing me do it is immeasurably intriguing to me. I've seen things in their faces and body language that surprised me. Anyway, as I was leaving work the other night I was doing my usual turnabout from the sunset and saw this tree at the edge of the parking lot. I had already started the car but the image of the skinny little fingers of this tree against the sky made me turn the engine off, get out, grab the camera, and make it art.
The sunset that day was lavender. As many times as I had noticed the sun setting I had never noticed this funky little tree though I pass it every day. Instead of having many branches it just has these few but then there all these tendril branches covering them like reef coral or twining veins. They are very stiff and wiry but in silhouette against the sky they look almost wispy. It is also one of those trees that grew up right on the fence line so it has slowly become part of the fence. Without its leaves it looks like a skinny evening sentinel at his post. Every day since I took these pictures my eyes now seek out the funny tree first when I leave for the evening. The sunset comes after.
I called it The Skinny Finger Tree because I imagined it reaching out in the dwindling sunlight to catch the last bit of warmth the way we extend our hands toward a fire to warm them. Today The Skinny Finger Tree is wearing a cape of fog and we can't feel the sun at all. Yesterday I was sweating through my dress after my lunch hour run but not today. Today the cold is seeping up through the concrete to clutch at my feet while my back and shoulders pulse with the effort of last night's yoga. I feel as stiff as The Skinny Finger Tree but there is a warm core beneath that is longing to be stoked with bowls of beans and silky cheese. I am resting today and pressing fluffy things against me with skinny tree fingers until I can feel those veins of heat reaching down to my feet and hands. Enjoy your weekend, my friends.
(c) 2012, ACG
What struck me is the shift in perspective...how you now see the tree, then the sunlight. So cool that life is like that, eh?
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