Showing posts with label Makhanda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Makhanda. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 January 2023

WEEK 4 What is in your hand? Let’s play around with this question.


The hand without the wrist


The hand with the shirt's cuff



The hand with the shirt's cuff

What do you have in your hand? – that is a question that reverberates continually in my mind. Indeed, what do I have in my hand? And what do you have in your hand? This is a loaded question. Especially if we start to play around with it.

I can play around with this question and arrive at surprising answers if only I ask different questions. I can ask for instance whether I can find a man’s hand in a tree stump?

Or where else can I find man’s hand? What do we leave as a legacy?  

The handiwork of mankind can even be found on the moon and on our way to Mars. We leave our junk on Mount Everest; sadly, so we even leave human bodies on that sacred mountain. Our junk, made by human hands are clogging up the creatures of the seas of the world. I am not on a rant to promote a clean green earth or to remove the human remains from our high mountains. No, I want to tell you a different story of my friend and where he found a man’s hand.  

At times one can find a hand in a tree or shall I rephrase that one: you may find a man’s hand in a tree stump. That place where the trunk dives under the soil towards the roots; that is where this particular hand was found by my friend Leendert Joubert. That dried out piece of trunk cum roots held something beautiful – at least it is beautiful if you want to see it. Otherwise you may only see a piece of junk that might make good compost or if you don’t want to spend any time on it, to just get rid of. My friend and I prefer to see the beauty. And he is still sculpting it.

When he found it in his shed, the wrist was “missing” and he had to do something. By the way, the thumb was missing too and he had to craft that as well and he did a very good job of it, not that it will qualify him from becoming a plastic surgeon!! We should not be too harsh on him; have a heart it was his first “tree surgery.” Well, if you are able to see a man’s hand [at first blush, it was without a thumb and yet he saw a hand] in a throw-away piece of junk, you are in a prime position to make a plan to do something about that “missing” wrist and to craft a thumb. And he did. He sent me a photograph of his “solution” to the problem; and looking at the photo, it looks as if it is the cuff of the man’s white shirt.

Franschhoek acorn trees

In the meantime my Franschhoek oak trees are growing in my maternity ward [you will remember that I refer to my “nursery” as my maternity ward because it is full of life and death], and I pick up “dead” leaves from my neighbours’ trees. Leaves from any tree are still part and parcel of trees, not so? If I then tell you trees are never far from my mind, you will begin to understand how my mind works [let’s say on this level].

Dead leaves

“Dead” leaves are so colourful and full of life – it makes good compost to feed your garden. These leaves are so magnificently sculpted by nature; the lack of sustenance created a piece of sculpture. Each fallen leave is created differently. This process is endless in variety and in colour and in texture. There is always something to admire and to wonder about; to stand in silent admiration and in rapt awe!! This is truly awesome; the Kardashians and lamentable Prince Harry are not awesome; compare the voluptuousness of the Kardashians to a fallen leave; I prefer the leave!

One day not so long ago [it was actually on the 19th day of October 2022] the wind was blowing and howling around the corners of the house and surrounds. All of a sudden, I looked at the celtis Africana and this strong upright tree was caught up by the wind; on a normal day the leaves are rustling; the sound is so peaceful but not on the 19th October 2022. The video you can watch now is just a teaser for the longer version that you can access on my youtube channel by clicking on this link.



Video van die witstinkhoutboom in die wind.

This invisible force was pushing it about at it pleasure. Backwards and forwards and sideways and up and down – at its will. The leaves were shaking and I stood in rapt admiration at the forces of nature in my front yard. Yes, I am aware of tsunamis and other forces of nature out there; this display was a couple of meters away from me; I felt its forceful presence on my body; I smelt the dust and stuff that were tossed around the tree and the plants. It was flying around in all directions. The speckles of dust were up my nostrils. It was inescapable. You had to notice it. Please share my joy with this short video of my celtis shaking in the wind.

I recall the forces of nature my wife and I witnessed in Grahamstown, now re-named Makhanda, during a destructive downpour we had. The river was in full force and it ripped out everything in its path; it ripped open the sides of mountains and washed away cattle and birds and trees and sheep. It was a frightful experience. Rushing destructive waters rushing by on its path to destroy further down.


Christ addressing a crowd

And there is another tree that is not destructive provided you cultivate a personal relationship with the Man that was hung on that Tree. What Tree am I referring to? And why do I use a capital T? St. Peter wrote to the believers in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bythinia [first century Christian churches] in his first letter chapter 2 verse 24:

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.

There is another remarkable Scripture which you may read in the Gospel according to John chapter 1 verse 51: Jesus saw this man called Nathanael sitting under a fig tree and He called him to be His follower. This remarkable: He saw Nathanael sitting under a fig tree. Well, it seems to me as if He might be aware of me and of you.

I trust that you will respond.

Trees are miracle-workers – please enjoy your tree which might be a fig tree – who knows?

Please write me a letter: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za