The Lifeless Oak, or Is It?

In a secluded corner of our garden stands a majestic yet lifeless oak tree, a silent sentinel of time. Though it succumbed to death years ago, its towering stature persists. I’ve intentionally refrained from removing it, and when a recent visitor questioned whether this deliberate inaction was an embodiment of my commitment to slow living, I clarified that it wasn’t. The reason for retaining the dead tree becomes evident upon closer inspection.

Nested within one of its weathered hollows resides a charming family of owlets. The rhythmic pecking of our resident woodpecker reverberates through the stillness, as it tirelessly forages for sustenance. Meanwhile, mushrooms begin their delicate ascent from the trunk, signaling the tree’s gradual return of nutrients to the soil. This lifeless oak has seamlessly woven itself into the intricate tapestry of our ecosystem, and so it stands, untouched by the hands of removal.

However, when I settle into an easy chair amidst the garden’s tranquility and gaze upon the stoic tree, a different kind of richness unfolds. The woodpecker’s industrious pursuit, the curious peeks from the owlets, the bulbuls perched atop its highest branches, and the fleeting passage of white-throated thrushes compose a symphony of life. It is in these moments that the essence of slow living truly envelops me.

Yet, beyond the tangible vitality, the dry oak tree assumes a more profound significance — a philosophical emblem of impermanence. As I reflect on my own transient existence, it becomes a poignant reminder that nothing, not even myself, is immune to the ebb and flow of time. Amidst this realization lies a compelling reason to cherish the life I presently inhabit, embracing the fleeting beauty of each passing moment.

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