my tree (imagery)

There's an image that has haunted me for a very long time now. It is an image that I'd paint everywhere if I knew how to paint.

I close my eyes and see it. The sky is light blue with a hint of pink. The night's falling.

... Should I share this image with you? All of a sudden I feel like I'm letting go of a treasure...

I once read that we only loose what we keep to us, and we only gain what we give away. So, yes. I'll give away my image.

From where I'm standing, all I can see on my sides is a green-turning-orange plain, a huge, vast plain. But there's a hill in front of me. Against the sky, on top of the hill, there's a single tree.

The tree is there alone but it's so rich. It has many, many branches. It's beautiful, leafy. Really, it's an amazing tree. Very tall, too. The cold wind moves it's leafs and branches. It is there all alone. On the top, alone.

It is a nostalgic view. Who's there to see the beauty of it all? The sky, the plain, the hill... the colors.

Who's there to feel it?

After seeing this image, after dreaming with it and thinking of it whenever I see something similar for years, I wonder... Why does this nostalgic view make me feel so peaceful and satisfied?

Am I the tree? Am I the missing spectator? Am I the night falling to hide it? Maybe it represents my mission in life somehow... who knows.

Who knows.