Receiving Relief Under A Solitary Tree
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Collection of my Flickr Favorites
Definitely the Pictures Aren't Mine
Solitary Tree Collection
No pictures today. Been down and out with a flu-like virus and body malaise but with TLC and a freshly squeezed OJ by Mitzi, I'll surely get back to 100% soon.
This collection of "Single Trees" is spiritually-uplifting for me.
How many great people have done something good under one solitary tree? Jesus prayed under an olive tree on the way to Jerusalem prior to his crucifixion. Isaac Newton was under a tree when he was able to explain gravity after getting boinked on his noggin. Lovers etch their names in that sole tree in a farm lot promising to return to it one day when they're old and grey.
Vincent Van Gogh always loved painting trees. Shakespeare, Milton and Byron would always inject olive trees in their stories. It is a source of life, refuge and peace.
Google Music Trends is not your American Top 40. But I'm not a Google Talk user, so my music is not well represented there.
Today my Ipod is playing:
- Angels and Airwaves' "The Adventure" and "It Hurts"
- From First to Last's "World War Me" and "Heroine"
- Panic! At the Disco's "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" and "But It's Better If You Do"
not really your garden variety of uplifting music on a sick day..., they're actually noisy (apartment neighbor irritating noise levels) but it gives me somewhat of a cure. :) am I that weird when I'm sick.
Speaking of "weird" - its one of the words that break the Spelling rule of "I before E except after C"
Here's more - a story about our weird apartment friend.
My neighbor who weighs like a beige rotweiller fancies caffeine for leisure. It is her non-scientific belief that doing this neither makes her pale as a geisha or dark as a shiekh. But one day, Im sure, she'd fall due to seizure from not drinking either decaffeinated coffee or just plain water. She's a different specie. She's weird.
There she goes again pounding our common apartment wall. Does she have a seismograph? My music has been turned down low. I think her name is Sheila. She's married to Keith, whose height is disproportionate to his hair which is as long as the Seine River. I remember he loves protein.
Ahhhhh! I'm sick. I have no conscience. A menace to society.