Her young eyes looked at the trees. She felt compelled to draw them. Majestic, they were. Beautiful, changing colors and then having none. Her fondness for them grew as she grew and they grew too. She could never stop drawing them, sometimes coloring them in the vivid reds and yellows of autumn, sketching them in pencil during the winter.
It was while doing one such sketch that she felt suddenly drawn to the space between the trees. For so long she had been focused on the shapes, colors and textures of the trees themselves, that she had never focused on the spaces between them.
Her eyes now captured the shapes between the trees, which had a life of their own, she thought. She was a young adult now, and felt deeply privileged to be shown this lesson by the trees.
She felt as though the trees were teaching her something very valuable, that she would need to remember throughout her life – that it is the spaces between things that hold the most magic and beauty.
The space between our breaths, the spaces between the beginnings and endings of major events in our lives.
She contemplated this for some time, every fiber of her being resonating with this profound message. What were the trees telling her? Were they saying “thank you for seeing us”; “thank you for being with us”?
Or were they not even aware of her presence? Were they just being what they were – simply imparting their wisdom for those who took the time to see?
The Space Between the Trees
a short story by