A Folktale – The Trouble Tree

Inside the Mind of Isadora

The carpenter we hired to help us restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his beat-up pickup truck refused to start.

While we drove him home, he sat in stony silence.

On arriving, he invited us in to meet his family.

As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands.

When he opened the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face is a wreath in smiles as he hugs his two small children and kisses his wife.

Afterward, he walks us to the car. We pass the tree, and my curiosity gets the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

”Oh, that’s my trouble…

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about these things

“What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean.”

— Anne Lamott

Photo by Jean Pike

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Fine-lined Emerald, Finally

Mike Powell

I was ecstatic on Monday at Occoquan Bay National Wildlife Refuge to finally capture some images of Fine-lined Emerald dragonflies (Somatochlora filosa), a species for which I have been searching repeatedly this past month. Fine-lined Emeralds are one of several species that appear in the autumn, just as the number of most species of dragonflies is beginning to drop precipitously. I had spotted what I think were Fine-lined Emeralds several times earlier in September, but for me the sighting does not really “count” if I am not able to take a photograph.

Fine-lined Emeralds like to spend a lot of time patrolling, and a lesser amount of time perching. Unlike many of species that fly about high in the air, this species often flies at at somewhere between knee and eye-level.

On this day I spotted at least two individuals patrolling along one of the trails that runs…

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There exists an aperture, a portal

A portal to nowhere and everywhere

Hidden somewhere

In the world in which we inhabit and exist

We live to find that portal

The wormhole within us

I am the portal, vision deep and far

You are the timeless portal opening and closing

This portal will take us on a journey through windows of opportunity

God chose light as the never-ending highway through portals of eternity

When the portal birthed itself out of itself

It composed a symphony out of silence

With a slight difference in each interpretation

And we seamlessly glide through, into a portal within portals ad. Infinitum.

~DiosRaw, 03/10/21

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Heaven On Earth

[The music you can play if you’d like while you view this post.]

Eating Humble Pie at times is necessary if I wish to make improvements with myself. I had jumped to a hasty conclusion before knowing all the circumstances of a situation. I refused to justify my behavior for I intended to improve the next time I interacted with someone when I don’t know their side of the coin.

Instead of going into guilt about how I acted in thought and emotion, I began to think about how we process information. Each of us being magnificently unique means we all process life differently. Why else do you think that witnesses at a crime scene, for example, or an accident scene, tend to have different stories about what happened?

Due to the individuality of who we are, our brains interpret life distinctive from that of everyone else. In hindsight when…

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