Frank has illustrated his challenge post today with an intriguing picture, so much so that I’m using it for my response.
Photo courtesy Frank Jansen Photography.
The Abbey was a place of sanctuary. No questions were asked, no-one was turned away, it was a place where solitude was paramount, confused perspectives unravelled and clarified, souls searched and peace found.
The Tree had been there for well over a century, a sentinel of magnificence and stability.
It was said that on stormy nights, it was not the wind howling through its branches, but The Tree’s pain as once again it twisted and turned to protect its charges within.
The defined contortions in the branches reflected times of conflict, uncertainty and potential surrender, but still The Tree stood tall, reaching for the sky to touch the heavens, offering up its leafy canopy.
It was as if it had taken each penance into its embrace and moulded them to its structure. In autumn, it shed its leaves like tears, a cleansing process of sorts, returning the good to earth where it could begin again.