Monday, February 08, 2010

Madrona means Mother

Oh my, do I have lots to share this morning?!??! So much to say. So little time! There is so much gloriousness floating around in the world, I can hardly stand it. Yesterday, I was greeted by this blogger for the first time. She mentioned how our blogs have much in common and when I read "What a beautiful mess this is", I thought she had borrowed something from me. I went searching to find some profound words about the madrona tree, thinking they were posted somewhere in this site. Alas, I had only penned them to my son back in December.

So, in a rush and without further adieu, I share with you these beautiful words about this amazing piece of nature.

“When a madrona branch withers and dies, it is not in the nature of the tree to allow it to rot or drop off. Its mother tree refuses to abandon it. Rather, as the young, healthy wood and bark grow, they creep up around the aged gray appendage like a bandage, a second skin, covering and protecting it, welcoming it back to tree-ness. No wonder the word “madrona” means “mother.” -- Luci Shaw

So, tell me... what do you think of the madrona? Nurturing? Co-dependent? Fabulous example? What images come to your mind?

13 comments:

Maureen said...

I'm so pleased you discovered my friend Diane's site. She and I and our other blogging sisters have a grand time and often find others posting with remarkable synchronicity.

I love the quote about the madrona.

Tess said...

This is like mothering your mother. Ad infinitum, to a beautiful multi-generational support and holding. Or a cheerleading pyramid to use a completely off the wall analogy. (I may be British and we don't have cheerleaders, but I do watch your Yankee TV and I know all about your strange customs...)

Karen said...

What a beautiful fact--I had never heard of a madrona before! Oh I like this...it fills me with love. It makes me think of my six year old when he's having a particularly bad meltdown--all I can do is hold him and love him hard and welcome him back into himself...

drw@bainbridge.net said...

Wow.
I think you must have been looking over my shoulder last night! Thanks so much for the quote, and the callout; all three of my blogs felt your influence this morning!

speck of dust said...

Lovely post. I believe very much that nature heals. I have never heard of this tree before. How beautiful.

Anonymous said...

I did not know these things about madrona trees but yesterday morning my sisters and I, while going for a walk, found a madrona tree in Washington Park Arboretum and practically worshiped it because we like these trees so much. Thank you for teaching and inspiring me like this. Shalom, Laura

SUNRISE SISTER said...

You shared the madrona story with me in December, so I too, thought you had blogged about it. Such a beautiful thought that the tree does not let the branches die and be forgotten. I haven't read Contemplative Photography for a couple of days but popped right over there to see the comparisons re the Madrona.

The Pollinatrix said...

The first time I encountered these trees was on the very same trip to California that I mentioned on your sister's blog today.

I was taking a solo hike in the Armstrong Redwoods near Guerneville, and came across one of these trees up in the hills. I was dumbstruck by it. Honestly, it struck me as fascinating but almost creepy at first, like raw flesh. But as I gazed upon it while I ate my lunch, I grew very warm toward it.

hmmbrd said...

Piercing and beautiful. compelling! To have a visual in nature that reflects so perfectly a parents heart for their child. Or really, a persons love and compassion for another person. But i must say that for me, there is nothing quite as powerful as a mothers love for her child. It is fierce and gorgeous.

Barbara said...

Never heard of this tree before. Maybe it does not occur in the northeast. I think I would genuflect in front of such a tree.

Barbara said...

I checked it out on Wikipedia. It is a Pacific coast tree. We know it as the arbutus in Canada and I have (almost) genuflected in front of its fascinating beauty. I did not know about how it reclaims its fallen branches. I admired its wet, peeling, red bark.

His Girl Friday said...

oh, very neat.

lucy said...

you have each honored the madrona tree in such special and beautiful ways. i only wish i had the time this morning to respond personally to each comment...

i don't believe this will be the last time i write of this tree... now i must go find one and genuflect :-) (love that image, barbara).

nature... we learn so much and heal so well in her presence.

blessings.