Photo and Commentary ©2023 by Maylan Schurch
Friday, April 7, 2023
A few blocks from where Shelley and I live is a home inhabited by at least one and maybe two artists. Even the house-number painted on their curb is bright and multicolored!
Whenever I stride past their home, I look at it with interest, and this past Thursday I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. As you can see in the photo, it is a wire human frame positioned in front of the tall green bush by the house.
Unless I miss my guess, the idea behind this is that vines will be planted around the frame’s ankles, and over time will grow into a vine-colored human form. Or maybe something else is going on—there seem to be dry leaves wrapped around the figure’s legs. Is this a local Burning Man display? (A bit too close to the house to set afire, though.)
I enjoy such creative ventures. And so, I’m sure, does the God who programmed us with such instincts. And I’m sure that if the couple doesn’t actually try to fall down and worship this image, He gives a good-natured grin every time He notices.
The American poet Joyce Kilmer (male) was tragically killed at age 31 in World War I, but had already been recognized as a poet. He was also a person of faith, as you can see in the following famous poem, now in the public domain,
Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.