My mother loves to sit in the shade of the grand oaks that line the river bank of her property. She sits for hours while I come and go. These Oaks are so broad shouldered they can offer shade all through the day.
The breeze moves in off the water and the oak leaves begin to sing. It is a gentle song full of praise, moving up through limbs and down into the soul. And then it fades off as softly as it came.
These Oaks are masters of time, endlessly patient, and accepting. They stand by like servants, as we sit in their shade and listen to their song.