I stopped on the way to work this wintry morning and photographed these recently trimmed trees – all their branches were on the ground, no doubt to be removed some time soon.I know these trees, planted for a purpose and trimmed to meet a need, will grow again in the spring but I feel sorry for them. They have a predestined shape, a true form, their own and not one imposed for some external purpose.
On the way home I stopped on the roadside again. The trees below have had perhaps a season or two to recover however one day they’ll get the chop again, when the height they have reached is more than the farmer wants – when the tree has reached up and out again to achieve its true form.Perhaps the sympathy I feel for these trees is in part due to my recently having to reshape my life to fit back into being a ‘working woman’ once more. I can no longer spend my days as my mood takes me, doing what I feel inspired to do, rather I’m doing what I need to do, what I am expected to do.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I appreciate having a well-paid, interesting job with wonderful colleagues, however I’d love the luxury of having the day to myself to spend as the mood or the muse moves me.
Where’s that anonymous benefactor – I’m feeling a little misshapen this week.