Kim Douillard who blogs at Thinking Through my Lens hosts a photo challenge each week. The theme this week is “One Tree.” Armed with my new camera, I decided to create a photo poem about the Grandmother Oak who stands in my backyard.
Mr. Jim tells me this oak is more than 200 years old.
Her name is Grandmother.
Yes, my tree has a name.
Her name defines her
as strong and old and able to bear
the weight of the whole world
as gently as she would hold
a small child
or a cardinal’s nest.
A rope swing waits
swinging in the soft breeze
remembering the children
taking turns to ride
and lean back to view the sky,
squealing delight,
making Grandmother smile.
Branches as wide as she is tall
twist and reach across
the yard, a place of shade
protection form the harsh sun
or the whipping wind
of hurricanes; she’s seen a few.
She knows when to shed and when to hold.
She knows how far to bend before she’ll break.
She knows.
When I look up, the smallest branches
spread a canopy of tiny leaves
high and open to the blue
of sky, clusters of brothers
and sisters, a playground for squirrels,
a nesting place for Mr. Jay and his mate.
Grandmother Oak holds her jewels
of resurrection fern and Spanish moss
like modest ornaments.
As a grandparent would, her home
is clean and fresh,
waiting and wanting
for you to stop by
and have a cup of tea.
–Margaret Simon
For Celebration Saturday, I offer this celebration of Grandmother Oak.
Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.
I absolutely love this–the words and the pictures and the tree. How lucky you are to have her in your yard! I would definitely want to stop by for a cup of tea.
This is so very beautiful. When I taught first grade, in the back field behind the rural school stood two Oregon White Oaks. They two were suspected of being over two hundred years old. It took our entire class of 27 first graders and myself to span it’s trunk, holding hands. Before I left the school to become a reading specialist, I nominated the oak and its sister tree as historic trees. But now the school is closed. I hope they will stand protected. These old trees are amazing spirits. The true Ents. I am so lucky this one has you as a caretaker.
I am told that she is registered.
Beautiful Margaret. That tree is awesome! My granddaughter’s school trip was to see trees that were here before people, & one special one named the “Grandfather Tree”. She talked about it a lot, was in awe of the age. When she comes again I’ll share your poem and pictures!
You have described Grandmother Oak in all her glory as a lovely part of your community. There were so many beautiful thoughts/lines in this poem, Margaret but here is one that stands out: Grandmother Oak holds her jewels
of resurrection fern and Spanish moss
like modest ornaments.
Thanks for a reminder that spring is on its way.
She is beautiful. Your poetry and pictures continue to amaze me. The seem to grow together.
She knows when to shed and when to hold.
She knows how far to bend before she’ll break.
She knows.
Such wisdom there, in those words and that grand old lady of a tree. I aim to be like her, Margaret.
She is an inspiration to me.
Just love this, Margaret! Your tree feels and looks like a real grandmother. So much comfort and wisdom. Some favorite lines:
“Grandmother Oak holds her jewels
of resurrection fern and Spanish moss
like modest ornaments.
As a grandparent would, her home
is clean and fresh,..”
I would love to have a grandmother like this nearby. What comfort she must give just knowing she’s there!
Margaret, Your tale of Grandmother Oak is wonderful. It is full of inspiration for a way to have lived a life and has such a sweet southern accent to it. It would make a lovely Mother’s Day homily or Mother’s Day card.
Thank you for your kind response. She is an amazing inspiration to me.
Beautiful! I have always loved trees. As a child I drew them often.
[…] photo challenge “One Tree.” I photographed and wrote a poem about our grandmother oak. Today I took pictures of another old tree. This one is a century-old cypress. It sits in the back […]