I saw this enormous, glorious tree up ahead. My heart fluttered, I slowed down the car with an audible intake of breath. Yirah. Awe. A God conscious moment. There were no cars behind me. I had to stop, because here's the thing, if you don't stop, you miss the beauty. I couldn't risk that. Again my heart spoke up and I knew this magnificent tree, clothed in sunshine, needed to be viewed by more people than the few who drive down the country road it lives on. Good news. I had my camera! (Well you never know when a perfect photo op might arise.) I was very safe...I pulled into the tiny driveway of the farmhouse across the street.
I took a few photographs of this majestic tree, (inner smile expanding), clicking away blissfully while sitting in some random person's driveway. An elderly woman (ahh, the random person) with a lovely scarlet hat slows down to stop and retrieve mail at the mailbox. She looks at me somewhat quizzically through the open window of her car, wondering, (I imagine) if she knows me. She aligns her car adjacent to mine. I roll down my window (and I'm thinking Gordon and the girls would be wicked embarrassed...well actually they wouldn't be, because they would never have let me stop the car in the first place!) I call out to her (another humiliating habit that would have made my family cringe)..."The tree...it's so gorgeous, I had to stop and take a picture." She smiles (as this is HER tree)..."Oh yes," she gleefully replies, "That's a sycamore...it's not indigenous and people stop all the time to admire it!" She looks at the tree, beaming with delight. Me too. She turns back to me. I smile. She smiles. It didn't seem to matter that we were strangers seconds before. The tree was a conduit for the flow of sacred connection. It was a brief encounter, but holy none-the-less. We rolled up our windows. Off I went back toward home, toward familiar streets and trees and people I know well. I now picture her in my mind's eye. She is sitting down for a warm cup of tea, maybe noshing on a cookie or two, gazing out her kitchen window at the stately sycamore and vast sky beyond.