Tree Song

I don’t know why the caged bird sings. But I think I may have finally figured out why the others do.

I take walks every day down a wooded path behind my home. Sometimes so many birds are singing it sounds like a choir. Other times there are only one or two at each turn of the path. Occasionally the songs sound like a dialogue, sometimes a Bach canon. But most often the sounds are clearly ecstatic, a brimming forth of some secret joy.

I believe I have discovered the source of that joy. Each bird is singing about how beautiful its tree is. How delicately shaped each leaf as it twists in the breeze. How the broad canvas of the whole creates ever evolving shadows on the ground. How the Fibonacci architecture of the branches leads right up to the sky.

Birds never sing about what time they have to get to the bird feeder, or whether they need a bath, or the bird next door, or even that tree they saw two weeks ago. They only sing of the beauty in front of them.

Each bird sings in its own language. Birds are very smart; each knows all the languages of all the birds. But when they sing of trees they sing in their own tongue, the one they hold in their heart.

And when they fly to the next tree, birds sing about how beautiful that tree is. And I agree with them.

I have never seen a tree that was not beautiful, from smallest sapling to startling senior. And unique – no tree the same as any other– even the aspen trees (which reproduce by what is called root sprouting and are in a sense one tree) are genetically identical but never quite the same in appearance. I wonder sometimes if  the beauty of trees has something to do with their uniqueness—and if we were more aware of it in humankind, we might see more beauty in each other.

Do the trees listen to the birds? I think so. Do they appreciate the praise? I’m not so sure. The lives of trees seem unconcerned with birds, or squirrels, or humans. They have their own purposes in their long lives.

What beauty do trees sing about?

I doubt we will ever know.

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The Architecture of Trees

The architecture of trees fascinates me.

How do the branches know how to grow?

Complexity theory?

Fibonacci Sequences?

Artificial intelligence?

A complex algorithm it must be.

In searching for its own light, the branch serves the tree.

What does the branch know of the tree?

The result seems always the same:

Spare beauty against the blue.

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Whence and Whither

The whence of beauty always is unclear.

The whither, that we know, is far from here.

 

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Women And Aging: The Pnina Rosenblum Version

 

 

The other night on Israeli television (Hakol Kalul-- all inclusive) I watched Talia Peled Keinan interviewing the  Israeli  businesswoman, and media personality, Pnina Rosenblum.

About two years ago Rosenblum started an online dating service, lately she was sued by one of her former clients. He was one of her VIP clients who paid a large sum of money so that she personally would find him a suitable partner.  Apparently she failed to do so. Rosenblum ignored questions about the lawsuit, instead she used the opportunity to promote her business. She encouraged older men to subscribe, even free of charge, to her dating service and gave older women some personal grooming tips

Rosenblum claimed that older women should be careful not to let themselves go, eligible men are rare, and in order to catch a man, women must stay slim and beautiful.

Please keep reading in the Times Of Israel

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/women-and-aging-the-pnina-rosenblum-version/

 

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In the photo Pnina Rosenblum and her new site

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