Storms

Several trees have gone down since I was last on the wet walk round Crathes Castle. Some magnificent ones, whose roots wouldn’t relinquish their grip on the soil, so as they crashed to the ground, they tore circular halos of earth and wood which now rise above their horizontal resting places. Ecosystems have moved in, and thankfully, no fastidious gardeners have tidied up.

One tree caught my eye particularly. A less robust tree, tall and thin, had been dislodged from the soft earth on one side of Coy Burn. It now leans across the width of the burn, its top branches caught and held by other young trees on the other side.

Life’s storms can knock us down. Sometimes, they totally flatten us, killing our dreams, questioning our love, undermining our faith. Sometimes, as we start to totter, a friend or a stranger offers us a stronger shoulder on which to rest. Sometimes that other person just holds us until we regain our equilibrium and can once more withstand the buffeting winds. Sometimes, (though not in the tree’s case!), that other person walks with us a few steps, a few miles, a few years, walking us home.

May you have a friend on whom to lean today, or be a friend on whom someone else can lean. May we all be aware of one another, intuitively ready to be the stronger shoulder or the steadying hug.