Ashes, Ashes

"New seed is faithful.  It roots deepest
in the places that are most empty."  C. P. Estes

We all fall down.  The ashes were spread in the garden with care.  They are the remaining essence of our Christmas Tree.


A week or so ago on Christmas Day our family visited around the fireplace with a bright and cozy fire. The blaze was fed by the trunk of our tree from one year ago.






In its vibrant, green state it was magnificent, tall and stately.  After the holiday season, it provided shelter and perching for birds as it snuggled into the arms of the bare persimmon tree that lives just off the dining room window. By April the regal life had drained away, and it was time for its next incarnation: limbs to protect the creek bank and the trunk cut to dry for firewood for next Christmas Day.


Sweet memories drifted up with the smoke of the family fire, and there was space to honor the source and fuel for the heat--a sacred life completed.  Things I get to do today will embrace the full circle as I spread the ashes to mix with soil and become new life, new beginnings rooted deeply in this emptiness.

Christmas and Spring

In the arms of love

We had a magnificent Christmas tree this last winter.  When the official season was over, the tree was definitely not dead or ready to be disposed of--see: "In the Arms of Love" (1-3-12).  Subsequent holidays came and went, Valentine's, Presidents', St. Patrick's, and Easter.  I had thought if the tree can make it until Easter, oh my!

Still quite green for a May Christmas Tree

May 1, well past Easter, a terrific wind came through.  The Christmas tree leaned out from its arms of security and toppled to its side on the ground.  It was time.  Along with its departure came the awareness of its future use.

Steep bank and erosion

Bank secured with Christmas branches

The limbs were cut from the trunk and used to stabilize the steep bank of the ditch/creek next to our property where Dame Apple lives.  These branches will help hold the soil through the rains that we are sure to have.









And the trunk?  It will season over the summer.  Next Christmas we will burn those logs for our family gathering. When the house is again quiet, the ashes will be scooped and sprinkled into the garden where they will become part of new life.  Full cycle.  Sweet tradition.