I don't know about you, but I do have moments when nostalgia enters my sphere of existence. I feel a certain sense of nostalgia coming on when old show tunes surface on the ether, invade the radio waves and drift ever so temptingly across my living room. In this case it invaded my car and it was a tune from an old musical: "I talk to the trees, but they don't listen to me." So, nothing new about that: My kids rarely listened to me (come to think of it, they still don't). My husband usually said: "Yes dear" when he was in a good mood, that did not mean that he listened to me. If I tell my Guru that I talk to the trees and that talking to the trees makes me feel nostalgic, he'll probably grin and grumble with a barely audible grumble: "Are we talking about absence of mind, or absence of reason or both?"

I thought about all of that when Gerald slipped me a particularly attractive picture of a tree. It was a tree I needed to visit. Camera in hand, the hunt was on. There was something different about that tree. It was beautiful, which is not unusual for trees decked out in blossoms of spring. This tree sort of swayed with the breeze; this tree was a dancing tree.
I don't know about you but when I see a dancing tree I do get the urge to talk to the tree.

     

This was definitely a One-Tree-Show. There are One-Man-Shows and there are One-Woman-Shows; Believe me, a One Tree Show is a rare moment in time.

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" I said.

"What is a picture?"

"It is the image of you, the essence, the spirit you emanate!"

"Will it diminish me?"

"No."

"Will it add to my stature?"

"Probably not, but I have a magic wand that is called Adobe. Adobe will allow me to make you larger, brighter, joyfully swaying in you own little magic forest!"

"Will your magic wand eliminate the sounds that kill the silence, the fumes that poison the air? Will it vanquish all the barriers humans erect to keep out the joy and peace bestowed by nature?"

"I can only promise you, it will bestow nature's gentle joys on all who see it"

The lovely little dancing tree consented graciously. I took as many pictures as I could. Adobe made it possible for me to take out all traces of human environment. I cloned, I cropped, added and subtracted elements with Photoshop. When I was done, it was a lovely dancing tree, dancing for the joy of it, not caring if it had an audience or not. That little tree had a message. Anything that was worth doing was worth doing just for the sake of doing it, regardless of the absence or presence of an audience.

Once, a long time ago a well-known poet wrote a poem titled ODE TO A GRECIAN URN. The poem pointed out that the painted figures on an ancient urn were still dancing, although the dancers themselves had long since ceased to exist. That poem still brings joy to the heart of the reader, although the poet is no longer. Nostalgia continues to touch the inner core, the essence of man. The little dancing dogwood will continue to bring joy to the eye of the beholder as long as the image exists. I suppose that's what Adobe is all about, bringing joy to the eye of the beholder.