Visiting the Oak Tree

Today I am visiting the oak tree that is featured on the cover of my memoir titled, "Gifts From an Oak Tree".  I haven't sat here in a while and today seems like a good day to receive a gift. 

The sun is slowly rising through the oak and maple tree branches this morning, casting shadows on the ferns that carpet the woodland floor.   A cool breeze makes them flutter just a bit.  I hear a woodpecker gently pecking on a tree east of Lindsay Creek.  Song birds are singing softly but a chickadee is the only one I recognize.

Cooler temperatures sent me outdoors this morning, that and my hubby's mention of a huge spiderweb catching the morning sun's rays between a birch and spruce tree in our yard.  As I gazed at the web, minus it's creator, I marveled at it's intricacy, massive size, and delicateness.  The spider who created it was one of the most talented artists I have ever encountered.  This led me to search the woods for more webs.

As I walked along the trail to the special oak tree, I found spiderwebs everywhere, on dead branches, on evergreens, and on the damp grass along the trail.  Many times the web masters were sitting in the webbing, waiting for a meal.  I marveled at the small size of the creators in comparison to the size of their masterpieces.  It's not that I've never seen spiderwebs before, but today I'm appreciating them more than ever.  They are another wonder in nature that we often take for granted.

I'm starting a new journal today.  It gave me a good feeling to fill up my last one.  My mind plays games with me and wonders if I will get to complete this journal too.  Next week I'm supposed to finish up this series of six chemotherapy treatments.  The last two were delayed because my blood counts were too low and I expect this one will be also.  In a way, that's o.k. with me.

The oak tree is telling me to take comfort in the stability of my life, to be thankful I can come back to this same tree and sit here time and again, and ponder.  So many people are on the go, moving often from place to place, creating new webs like the spiders.  I am thankful and content knowing this is where I'll be, as long as I am me, and the web that I have spun, should last until I'm done!   Thank you, oak tree, for helping me to realize how special a simple thing like stability is in my life.  If you have it in yours, appreciate it.