From my bedroom window

The wind blows and the pine trees sway in the side field, just beyond my bedroom window. Sitting in bed, propped up with pillows, I watch as the branches dance, each one to a slightly different rhythm. I note that they move with the wind and always, always, come back to stillness. With a large gust, I imagine that the truck of the tree sways as well.

I remember being in the woods last week and listening to the sound that the trees made when the trunk was moved. At the time, I imagined that it was the tree speaking. It seems meaningful in this moment that a tree emits sounds when buoyed around and is silent in tranquility. I think about how a baby cries when it is unhappy. How often we are moved to speak when we have objection.

Additionally, ironically, thought my eyes this morning, I hear them speak to me of silence. In their movement, they teach me about rest and stillness.

On this morning, the day before Thanksgiving, I am thankful for these paradoxical lessons.