The Mind of Time
By Todd Royce Gubler
10/17/09
By the glow of a fire and to the tick of a clock
I sit and ponder my life
The pendulum swinging the fire logs so red
I file through the mess of my thought
Time has escaped me just like that red flame
Seconds to minutes to years
Yesterday I was romping and playing in school
Now I am growing gray hairs
The mind all our master has logged all events
Passion, sadness, and Joy
The clock strikes the hour the fire light dims
Moments forever employed
Silence as the Strike arm recoils between chimes
A paused moment of suspended thought
Time seems to freeze as the strike arm pulls back
Memories forgotten or not
Years, moments, flashbacks, great hurt and jubilee
Then the chime strikes again and sets that moment free
The fire cracks and the ticking again is heard
Master time must again move on
By the tick of the clock and the glow of the fire
My life ponders me now it seems
Scenes, visions, lessons on continuous loop
One must only slow down to see
The ticking so rhythmatic yet the fire dances free
What is it I am to have learned?
From seconds to seasons, Time will not be stopped
Burn fire, burn fire, burn
Green wood to glowing embers, is there really an end
Or is this where the story began?
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Orchard, a piece from 'Lessons I Learned While Climbing a Tree'
Lessons I Learned While Climbing a Tree
The Orchard
Low Lying Fruit
By Todd Royce Gubler
1/21/09
I remember driving through the countryside surrounding Hurricane, Utah with my grandmother admiring all the farms and commenting on the encroaching development. As we came along a foothill road at the base of a black lava rock hill we rounded a curve and there was the most picturesque view I have seen. A huge orchard sat about 20 feet below the road and went on for acres. It was in full spring bloom and from the vantage of the road it was simply a field of spectacular blooms as we were above the tops of all the trees here. I told my Grandma that that was now a dream of mine…to have a house overlooking a beautiful orchard like this. I can see it still now as I remember it in full detail. The fragrance was intoxicating. I have always loved fruit trees and this sight only further deepened my appreciation of their majestic and versatile beauty. My Grandparents had orchards and my Great Grandparents also, so I guess my love of orchards is somewhat genetic. I have so many memories and fruit trees and in my book, The Garden of My Heart, fruit trees, lining the drive, are one of the first mentioned plants of the Garden Dream. Just sitting here writing my mind is flooded with memories of fruit trees, my Dad’s and Grandparent’s. So many lessons come back to my memory that I learned from these trees.
Fruit trees have a versatility of beauty and purpose that inspires me on many levels for some reason. Spectacular spring blooms prelude a lovely the new spring green. Spring green progresses to fruiting in late spring, the bounty of harvest after the long winter is every gardener’s biggest thrill. The fruit decorates the tree with lovely splashes of ornamentation. The harvest over the tree then deepens the shade of its green and cools the earth beneath its reach. As fall approaches most fruit trees crescendo with vivid fall foliage. As the foliage falls, the often knarled and weathered boughs are often just as lovely naked as they are in their full glory. Add a dusting of snow and they somehow remain the show stoppers of the landscape. They are just incredible specimens of God’s love.
I had the privilege of putting up a fence on a landlord’s orchard one late spring. It was an old and neglected 100 acre cherry orchard on a bench above the Spanish Fork River in the country side east of Spanish Fork, Utah. Since the owner wished to eventually develop the land the trees were not cared for in the least, but as trees often do, despite the neglect, they managed to put all their energy into blooming and fruiting. These ancient cherry trees were laden not only with fruit but with magic. There was the most peaceful, serene energy in that old orchard. The knarled trunks of the trees, the tall deep green spring grass, the does and fawns that lived here in graceful solitude. One could not help but fall in love with the place. Oh, and the view, the view of the valley from that orchard. The rows of trees seemed to frame every vantage in absolute perfection. It was a privilege to work in this place as, to me, it was sacred, inspirational ground. Thinking back on that orchard brings back pleasant thoughts.
There was lots of fruit that needed to be harvested in a short period of time that year. The landlord had hired some local kids to come pick cherries and they basically were playing around and picking the low lying, reachable fruit. In desperation the landlord asked if I could help harvest. I was pleased to help. I strapped on a harvest bucket and climbed the tall three legged wobbly ladder used to harvest from the upper branches. I was amazed at how nice the fruit was up there. It was harder to get to but to me it tasted better. Maybe it was just that I appreciated being enfolded in the branches of these sacred majestic trees, but there was something special about the fruit that was out of reach to most. Maybe the tree reserved this fruit to feed and nourish the birds I thought, because surely a lot of this fruit would never be harvestable by mere humans. I harvest 6-8 times more fruit that day than any of those silly kids, and I know I had a wholly different experience than they did with the harvest. To me being there was sacred and magical. The moment is imprinted on my heart.
It is funny looking at life, how often do we as humans harvest only the low lying fruit and neglect to seek out and harvest that which lies out of easy reach, but is still just as obtainable with a little more effort. Let me share a parable of a Gardener.\
There was a man who bought a little home that had small yard. The man loved the house from the moment he first saw it and since it was priced within his budget he was willing to overlook the fact that it backed up to a busy thoroughfare and bus stop. He moved in and loved the house with all his heart and took pride in making the home more beautiful. He went to the nursery and bought a lovely apricot tree and planted it in the sunniest spot in the little yard, which just happened to be right against the back wall, in front of the bus stop. He thought it quite a clever spot as it would hopefully grow big enough one day to block out his view of the bus stop that he could see just over the top of his five foot fence. He planted the small tree with all the love and care that any good gardener could give it and even built a little flower bed around its base and filled it with blooming annuals. The tree slowly but surely grew and grew and grew.
The first couple of years the little tree produced only a few apricots, which the gardener easily picked and quickly consumed. Each year the meager harvest increased only slightly. Because he was so eager for the tree to produce more, he failed to thin the meager fruit while it was young and as the apricots ripened they bent the immature branches down. The gardener although proficient with annuals and that, had always lived in an apartment before and therefore knew nothing of pruning and thinning fruit trees, but still the little tree received plenty of nutrients, water, sun and love and therefore decided to thrive. Since the yard was so small the house shaded most of the little yard and the little tree naturally seeking and reaching for the light, reached ever so slightly towards the little bus stop and over the back fence. As the tree matured it soon had a majority of its boughs over the back fence and now provided a comfortable shade for the little bus stop along the busy thoroughfare. The gardener was pleased with the tree’s progress and this particular year the spring bloom of the little apricot trees was incredible. The white blooms filled the sky from the little window in the back of the house. They floated to the ground and blanket the yard with white fragrant petals. The gardener knew that this was going to be the year the fruit’s of his labor for all these years would be rewarded. The fruit set on, and as usual the gardener could not bear to thin out any of the young fruit. As it ripened the boughs of the tree became more and more burdened and the weight of all this bumper crop of fruit on the young limbs pulled them all downward. The fruit started to ripen in the sun but the gardener soon realized there was a new threat to this crop, the patrons of the little bus stop. As they waited in the shade of the tree it just seemed they could not help but to help themselves the yellowing fruit. At first he was amused watching them pluck the still unripe fruit and watching the looks on their faces as they realized it was not yet ripe and grimaced. It was cute the first few times but then he started to get annoyed by the casual waste of the fruit he had now prepared years to harvest. Occasionally he would run out and yell at the people to stop stealing his fruit. This didn’t help as he couldn’t police the fruit tree all day and sometimes after antagonizing the patrons the kids would pluck the fruit and use it to pelt the gardener’s house. Oh the waste of his harvest. With the majority of the tree hanging over the fence, and now with the harvest ripe, the weight of all that fruit only exaggerated this problem and the tree practically uprooted itself leaning over the short fence. The gardener went out and harvested in minutes the few low limbs on his side of the fence. He walked around to the bus stop side of the fence and was instantly dismayed. Half eaten fruit lay all over the ground and some of the branches on this side were so heavy they had broken. Other branches had been pulled down on to get to the fruit and badly broken off. On this side of the fence all the low lying fruit had been stripped off and mostly wasted. There was not one ripe apricot left within reach from the ground. The gardener was very sad. He thought to himself, “They have wasted my entire bumper crop harvest.” Then he looked up. “Wow,” he thought. Up in the top of the little tree it was orange with fruit still. He went back to his little house and retrieved his ladder and walked back around to the bus stop. He climbed up the ladder and filled three buckets with apricots from his little lovely tree. He took them home and ate a few and then made for the first time, apricot jelly. He filled his cupboard and even had enough to give to all his neighbors. He was thrilled. The extra effort had left him with the reward he had sought for so many years as the little tree had grown. Even without the low lying easy to reach fruit he had obtained what his heart had yearned for, and now having climbed the ladder he had seen and appreciated the growth of the tree in a completely new way. Cupboards full he enjoyed that jam for the rest of the year until the tree produced again. The top of that little tree kept the little gardener in jelly for the rest of his years in the house he loved.
I have heard people lament that they have not found their prince or princess charming and that therefore they must not exists or there must not be any good ones left. “All the good ones are already taken,” is a common expression one hears muttered in bitterness. Laughable to me as this is, it’s sadly too many a person’s belief. They all seek the low lying fruit which they sadly only see in someone else’s hand, the hand of someone who has actually gone and harvest from the tree of life. Some fail to even get off their computers, or to leave their house to ever even see if there any low lying fruit left. Others make it to the tree only to find, as the gardener in the parable, that the low lying branches had been stripped and the fruit casually wasted by the unworthy masses. . Often, like in the parable, the low lying fruit is harvested even before it has fully ripened because the untrained passersby sees a spot of color and picks the fruit takes a bite, realizes it’s not ripe and tosses it along the road. So much of the low lying fruit is plucked before its prime. The gardener that refuses to climb the ladder and scale a few branches will easily be disappointed and say, “This tree produces not enough”, or “the fruit is not good”. But the gardener that is willing to put in a little more effort, take a few more chances and invest a little hard work and time, will still, despite the fickle passersby, be able to harvest a sweet and savory bounty. Great things, good things, are rarely placed easily in our reach as we walk through and discover the orchards of life, sometimes we luck out and stubble across the undiscovered low lying limb full of good fruit but often we have to be willing to look up, reach higher, and work harder, to discover the true bounty of the harvest.
Go out into your yard or a park and stand at the base of a large tree and look up. How much of the tree is out of your reach? What percentage would you say statefully stands out of your reach? This is the magic of trees. They are never satisfied with mediocrity; they are always reaching further in hopes of capturing all the rays of the sun possible. If you feel the bounty of your life’s harvest is poor, look up, climb up, reach up, and you will soon find that there is a lot more tree to be harvested and discovered in your life yet. Standing on the ground it is easy to forget, but climb up a big tree just a bit and you soon realize they are even bigger once you get in them than they appear from the ground. Life will occasionally provide is with a low lying limb full of fruit, but the only harvest that will fill the bottles in the cupboard and feed the neighbors is found by harvesting the whole of the tree…reaching for the fruit that is out of reach.
The Orchard
Low Lying Fruit
By Todd Royce Gubler
1/21/09
I remember driving through the countryside surrounding Hurricane, Utah with my grandmother admiring all the farms and commenting on the encroaching development. As we came along a foothill road at the base of a black lava rock hill we rounded a curve and there was the most picturesque view I have seen. A huge orchard sat about 20 feet below the road and went on for acres. It was in full spring bloom and from the vantage of the road it was simply a field of spectacular blooms as we were above the tops of all the trees here. I told my Grandma that that was now a dream of mine…to have a house overlooking a beautiful orchard like this. I can see it still now as I remember it in full detail. The fragrance was intoxicating. I have always loved fruit trees and this sight only further deepened my appreciation of their majestic and versatile beauty. My Grandparents had orchards and my Great Grandparents also, so I guess my love of orchards is somewhat genetic. I have so many memories and fruit trees and in my book, The Garden of My Heart, fruit trees, lining the drive, are one of the first mentioned plants of the Garden Dream. Just sitting here writing my mind is flooded with memories of fruit trees, my Dad’s and Grandparent’s. So many lessons come back to my memory that I learned from these trees.
Fruit trees have a versatility of beauty and purpose that inspires me on many levels for some reason. Spectacular spring blooms prelude a lovely the new spring green. Spring green progresses to fruiting in late spring, the bounty of harvest after the long winter is every gardener’s biggest thrill. The fruit decorates the tree with lovely splashes of ornamentation. The harvest over the tree then deepens the shade of its green and cools the earth beneath its reach. As fall approaches most fruit trees crescendo with vivid fall foliage. As the foliage falls, the often knarled and weathered boughs are often just as lovely naked as they are in their full glory. Add a dusting of snow and they somehow remain the show stoppers of the landscape. They are just incredible specimens of God’s love.
I had the privilege of putting up a fence on a landlord’s orchard one late spring. It was an old and neglected 100 acre cherry orchard on a bench above the Spanish Fork River in the country side east of Spanish Fork, Utah. Since the owner wished to eventually develop the land the trees were not cared for in the least, but as trees often do, despite the neglect, they managed to put all their energy into blooming and fruiting. These ancient cherry trees were laden not only with fruit but with magic. There was the most peaceful, serene energy in that old orchard. The knarled trunks of the trees, the tall deep green spring grass, the does and fawns that lived here in graceful solitude. One could not help but fall in love with the place. Oh, and the view, the view of the valley from that orchard. The rows of trees seemed to frame every vantage in absolute perfection. It was a privilege to work in this place as, to me, it was sacred, inspirational ground. Thinking back on that orchard brings back pleasant thoughts.
There was lots of fruit that needed to be harvested in a short period of time that year. The landlord had hired some local kids to come pick cherries and they basically were playing around and picking the low lying, reachable fruit. In desperation the landlord asked if I could help harvest. I was pleased to help. I strapped on a harvest bucket and climbed the tall three legged wobbly ladder used to harvest from the upper branches. I was amazed at how nice the fruit was up there. It was harder to get to but to me it tasted better. Maybe it was just that I appreciated being enfolded in the branches of these sacred majestic trees, but there was something special about the fruit that was out of reach to most. Maybe the tree reserved this fruit to feed and nourish the birds I thought, because surely a lot of this fruit would never be harvestable by mere humans. I harvest 6-8 times more fruit that day than any of those silly kids, and I know I had a wholly different experience than they did with the harvest. To me being there was sacred and magical. The moment is imprinted on my heart.
It is funny looking at life, how often do we as humans harvest only the low lying fruit and neglect to seek out and harvest that which lies out of easy reach, but is still just as obtainable with a little more effort. Let me share a parable of a Gardener.\
There was a man who bought a little home that had small yard. The man loved the house from the moment he first saw it and since it was priced within his budget he was willing to overlook the fact that it backed up to a busy thoroughfare and bus stop. He moved in and loved the house with all his heart and took pride in making the home more beautiful. He went to the nursery and bought a lovely apricot tree and planted it in the sunniest spot in the little yard, which just happened to be right against the back wall, in front of the bus stop. He thought it quite a clever spot as it would hopefully grow big enough one day to block out his view of the bus stop that he could see just over the top of his five foot fence. He planted the small tree with all the love and care that any good gardener could give it and even built a little flower bed around its base and filled it with blooming annuals. The tree slowly but surely grew and grew and grew.
The first couple of years the little tree produced only a few apricots, which the gardener easily picked and quickly consumed. Each year the meager harvest increased only slightly. Because he was so eager for the tree to produce more, he failed to thin the meager fruit while it was young and as the apricots ripened they bent the immature branches down. The gardener although proficient with annuals and that, had always lived in an apartment before and therefore knew nothing of pruning and thinning fruit trees, but still the little tree received plenty of nutrients, water, sun and love and therefore decided to thrive. Since the yard was so small the house shaded most of the little yard and the little tree naturally seeking and reaching for the light, reached ever so slightly towards the little bus stop and over the back fence. As the tree matured it soon had a majority of its boughs over the back fence and now provided a comfortable shade for the little bus stop along the busy thoroughfare. The gardener was pleased with the tree’s progress and this particular year the spring bloom of the little apricot trees was incredible. The white blooms filled the sky from the little window in the back of the house. They floated to the ground and blanket the yard with white fragrant petals. The gardener knew that this was going to be the year the fruit’s of his labor for all these years would be rewarded. The fruit set on, and as usual the gardener could not bear to thin out any of the young fruit. As it ripened the boughs of the tree became more and more burdened and the weight of all this bumper crop of fruit on the young limbs pulled them all downward. The fruit started to ripen in the sun but the gardener soon realized there was a new threat to this crop, the patrons of the little bus stop. As they waited in the shade of the tree it just seemed they could not help but to help themselves the yellowing fruit. At first he was amused watching them pluck the still unripe fruit and watching the looks on their faces as they realized it was not yet ripe and grimaced. It was cute the first few times but then he started to get annoyed by the casual waste of the fruit he had now prepared years to harvest. Occasionally he would run out and yell at the people to stop stealing his fruit. This didn’t help as he couldn’t police the fruit tree all day and sometimes after antagonizing the patrons the kids would pluck the fruit and use it to pelt the gardener’s house. Oh the waste of his harvest. With the majority of the tree hanging over the fence, and now with the harvest ripe, the weight of all that fruit only exaggerated this problem and the tree practically uprooted itself leaning over the short fence. The gardener went out and harvested in minutes the few low limbs on his side of the fence. He walked around to the bus stop side of the fence and was instantly dismayed. Half eaten fruit lay all over the ground and some of the branches on this side were so heavy they had broken. Other branches had been pulled down on to get to the fruit and badly broken off. On this side of the fence all the low lying fruit had been stripped off and mostly wasted. There was not one ripe apricot left within reach from the ground. The gardener was very sad. He thought to himself, “They have wasted my entire bumper crop harvest.” Then he looked up. “Wow,” he thought. Up in the top of the little tree it was orange with fruit still. He went back to his little house and retrieved his ladder and walked back around to the bus stop. He climbed up the ladder and filled three buckets with apricots from his little lovely tree. He took them home and ate a few and then made for the first time, apricot jelly. He filled his cupboard and even had enough to give to all his neighbors. He was thrilled. The extra effort had left him with the reward he had sought for so many years as the little tree had grown. Even without the low lying easy to reach fruit he had obtained what his heart had yearned for, and now having climbed the ladder he had seen and appreciated the growth of the tree in a completely new way. Cupboards full he enjoyed that jam for the rest of the year until the tree produced again. The top of that little tree kept the little gardener in jelly for the rest of his years in the house he loved.
I have heard people lament that they have not found their prince or princess charming and that therefore they must not exists or there must not be any good ones left. “All the good ones are already taken,” is a common expression one hears muttered in bitterness. Laughable to me as this is, it’s sadly too many a person’s belief. They all seek the low lying fruit which they sadly only see in someone else’s hand, the hand of someone who has actually gone and harvest from the tree of life. Some fail to even get off their computers, or to leave their house to ever even see if there any low lying fruit left. Others make it to the tree only to find, as the gardener in the parable, that the low lying branches had been stripped and the fruit casually wasted by the unworthy masses. . Often, like in the parable, the low lying fruit is harvested even before it has fully ripened because the untrained passersby sees a spot of color and picks the fruit takes a bite, realizes it’s not ripe and tosses it along the road. So much of the low lying fruit is plucked before its prime. The gardener that refuses to climb the ladder and scale a few branches will easily be disappointed and say, “This tree produces not enough”, or “the fruit is not good”. But the gardener that is willing to put in a little more effort, take a few more chances and invest a little hard work and time, will still, despite the fickle passersby, be able to harvest a sweet and savory bounty. Great things, good things, are rarely placed easily in our reach as we walk through and discover the orchards of life, sometimes we luck out and stubble across the undiscovered low lying limb full of good fruit but often we have to be willing to look up, reach higher, and work harder, to discover the true bounty of the harvest.
Go out into your yard or a park and stand at the base of a large tree and look up. How much of the tree is out of your reach? What percentage would you say statefully stands out of your reach? This is the magic of trees. They are never satisfied with mediocrity; they are always reaching further in hopes of capturing all the rays of the sun possible. If you feel the bounty of your life’s harvest is poor, look up, climb up, reach up, and you will soon find that there is a lot more tree to be harvested and discovered in your life yet. Standing on the ground it is easy to forget, but climb up a big tree just a bit and you soon realize they are even bigger once you get in them than they appear from the ground. Life will occasionally provide is with a low lying limb full of fruit, but the only harvest that will fill the bottles in the cupboard and feed the neighbors is found by harvesting the whole of the tree…reaching for the fruit that is out of reach.
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