An Exhibition Of Trees

My ride home from work tonight felt like taking a trolley ride through a vast art museum. Tremendous works of art were crowded tight to each other on either side of me, each a unique and precious creation. Although seemingly haphazardly placed along the landscape, the overall image blended an astonishing array of colors into a single, larger creation.

Many were the studies in green left over from the summer exhibit. But among them were strewn works done by the artist in his orange period, his yellow period, and red. Many did not reveal the subtle blend of colors they contained until I got close-up. Nearing them, I saw the subtle but rich blend of coloring, the work of a mature hand, layering colors the way a composer weaves instruments into an orchestral work. Tufts of ochre sat atop a sea of verdant base. Yellow wove designs with red upon each and every leaf of one tree, while similar designs were drawn in green, brown and red elsewhere.

A line of staid ochre trees make room for a neon pink bush, which makes use of every drop of sunlight that shines upon it. It reminds me of a family portrait with that one child who is always determined to stand out. Further down, her sister squats in front of a group of evergreens, their conical shapes showing that artistic expression is not about color alone. All of them together work in concert, like a fiery gem set upon a regal ring.

I feel as if I am rushed through this exhibition, as though a slow stroll through such magnificent works would be more rewarding. To spend the time to scan each of them individually, and then to look again to see how each connects to the whole. I feel as though I am spoiled with this extravagance that I have neither the time nor the eye to fully appreciate. But it is not just all for me, I remind myself. It is not all just for me.