That Special Tree

July 19, 2015

 

First spring moved to Virginia, I was pleasantly surprised to discover so many mulberry trees growing around my neighborhood.  I just returned from Peace Corps - Azerbaijan and still felt nostalgia for the uncomplicated life there.  So seeing a mulberry tree is like seeing an old friend from Azerbaijan.  In the village where I lived, nearly every house has a mulberry tree in its court yard.   Right before summer arrives; the mulberry begins to ripen.  Women place a huge blanket or tarpaulin beneath a mulberry tree, children kick, hit and shakes its branches playfully as instructed by their mother or grandmother.  Their playful action brings down all the ripen mulberries down to the ground.  Women collect those precious little berries and make jam for their homemade breads.  My host mother makes the best mulberry jam.  The taste of that sweet delectable glue on toast is one of my much-loved breakfasts in Azerbaijan.        

 

Just down the hill by where I live in Virginia , there are two mulberry trees.  One bears black fruit and the other has white berry.  The white one growing on the hillside is my favorite.  The fruits are bigger and sweeter.  The tree boughs are strong and healthy; its leaves are big with shinning dark emerald hue.  Although the tree is very tall but some of its branches bend downward and allow a petite person like me to have easy access to its fruits.  Early June, I walk by the tree every evening after work and collect its berries.  Mixing them with yoga, I eat these miracle fruits two weeks straight for lunch.  Berries of any kind are antioxidant.  Besides providing me with the best nutrition, the fruit is gift from god, free of charge.    My neighbors often stop and look at me with odd stare, drivers slowdown on sidewalk wondering what in the world I am doing.   I guess “civilized” people do not pick fruits directly from tree.  They would rather purchase them from supermarket! 

 

Even after the fruit picking season is over, the tree continues to intrigue me.  Its fallen fruits provide feast to many birds and squirrels.  Leftover ones decay and fertilize the earth.  After the initial acquaintance with the tree, I visit it often.  Especially on a hot summer day, its thick foliage offers a cooling canopy.  Many times, I image myself hanging a hammock under the tree, look up to the rustling leaves above my hammock, fall asleep and have many many wonderful dreams.   

 

One evening returning home from work, I looked up the tree and saw a bird with bright red breast, perching on a branch and singing its heart out.  Then a black squirrel rattled up and down the tree barks, chasing the bird out of its territory.  I stood there enjoying the saga unfolded.  Gradually the sky turned pale, gray and then dark.  Afterward a magic began.  Tiny sparkling of lights came into view underneath the tree.  They were fireflies.  As an urban dweller living most of my life in New York City, seeing a firefly is exciting to me.  I was acting like a little girl, chasing and catching the lights.  Despite the mosquito bite and the unbearable itches, I lingered under this special mulberry tree for as long as I could.   

 

That night in bed, the vision of that tree, calm, enduring, with the wind whispering through their boughs, brought sleep and memories of the peaceful periods in Azerbaijan.

 

Responsibility

January 16, 2017

Two months after the election, some folks still refuse to accept the result. Hillary and her team continue to blame others for her lost.  I dislike politician for most of them are egotistic and lack of a true motive to serve the public.  They may start with a good intention, but soon surrender to temptation; money, fame and power.  Hillary and her husband are the epitome of today politician.  I am not a fan of Trump but he had the audacity to voice what most of us afraid to say, so he is a better choice.  

While most of us are ready to move on and accept Trump to be the next president, some arrogant democrat including the Clinton, continue to play the blaming game.  It is everyone’s fault but theirs.  For them, accepting responsibility of their action is the hardest time to do.  To admit they are wrong is sin.  Not only have they lost the election, they have lost their self-respect.  I pity them.

I was a Peace Corps Volunteer.  My contribution to the world is no less than that of the president of the United States for my motive is pure and humble.  I admire candidates who run their campaign at the grassroots level, visiting small towns by bus and not by private jet, asking ordinary citizen and not the Wall Street billionaires to fund their campaign, talking to mum and pop and not Hollywood celebrities about their unpretentious daily life and wearing a regular clothing and not a designer outfit to shake our hands.     

Hillary’s lost is inevitable.  Anyone runs a campaign and lives his/her public life as supercilious as hers will fail.  History will validate that.