Trees, Celtic Christianity, and Resiliance

Photo of great Live Oak tree in Gulf Breeze, Florida , at a city park were we frequent. 

Growing up in Northern Appalachia, I have always felt drawn to trees especially BIG trees. The were plentiful in the neighborhood in which I grew up, and in the homes of my grandparents, aunts and uncles.  During my first three years of college in Northern West Virginia, the lovely high-ground campus was surrounded by a lush Appalachian woods. 

There were all varieties of big tress, from huge maples that shed their leaves all over or yard { that my brother and I were tasked to rake in the autumn} to evergreen tress that towered over our home and under whose branches we'd " camp" 

Imagine my disma when I was driving South to move to Navarre and the trees became skinny and scrubby.  I remember thinking " Where will I seek shade during the infamous hot Southern summers? 

To my relief, when I moved to Pensacola for college I became acquainted with big Florida tress such as the Live Oaks. Plenty of these majestic trees greeted me in whatever direction I walked on the campus of The University of West Florida. 

This is one such tree on the UWF campus whom I got to know rather intimately as I sat under its shade reading class material , or composing depressing poetry in my journal.  Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

The campus tress sheltered me from ht sun, and gave me a safe place to sit and write. I was unable to find an on-campus Christian group that suited my theology, so I spent much time alone with Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer God. I identified as a Christian with some fairly progressive political leanings, and none of the Christian worship/social groups felt comfortable. It was at this time that I went to Temple Beth El's Shabbat services with members of the small Jewish Student Association on campus. Reform Judaism attracted me in many ways, but I could not become a practicing Jew while remaining faithful to Christ as my Savior. 

So I returned to the sanctuary of the big trees on campus as I did my best to practice my Christian faith alone. 

A big tree under whom I studied, prayed, and sometimes needed to " just be" . Photograph by The Pensacola Hippie

To me, big tress represent resilliance--- they can live to be hundreds of years old and  " see" much of a particular place's history. I give thanks to God for the two old Live Oak tress that recently had to come down due to root rot. These tress were on the parish property since before the first phase of our church's physical plant was erected. Brian and I drove by the church one evening to see what the property is like without its majestic oaks

Photo taken with one of the two trees removed from the property. Photo by The Pensacola Hippie. 

One of the things that I notices on my first visit to our church's property were the two stunning oak tress. Tress, in my spiritual life, have also held a lot of meaning. They are strong, and steadfast. They weather storms. Other creatures live in their branches. Birds and squirrels build nests and raise babies in those high branches. The chlorophyll in the green leaves  produces the oxygen that is needed for survival. 

In these weird pandemic times, trees keep me connected to Earth and all Earth's inhabitants. . Tress remind me of the resilience of my Celtic Druid ancestry and how their brand of " unorthodox " Christianity.  Like the tress, we Celts  stand tall. We bend but { almost never } Our cultural roots are deep and far- reaching. 

Stay well, anam caras….

~Sarah