The Art Of Margaret Warfield

Tree Fetish

Margaret WarfieldComment

I have a connection with trees. Yes, “trees.” I realized this when I visited Savannah, Georgia a few weeks ago. After strolling along the River Walk, indulging in some fabulous food, seeing and connecting with dozens of people, the only photographs that I captured were of trees. This caused me to wonder, why photos of trees?

When I see a stately tree or a stand of trees it causes me to ask a series of questions.  What storms have they weathered? What stories have they overheard? How many tears have been shed under their canopy of limbs? How deep is the root system? How have you, the trees, survived?

To me there is nothing grander than a tree whose branches are stretching toward the sun. They seem to be lifting their limbs in praise to their creator.

I marvel at the multitude of colors that the leaves transform into when the seasons change.  The leaves exchange shades of green for brilliant colors of oranges, reds, rusts, yellows and purples, then, the leaves drift to the ground to form mounds of crunchy wonder. In my mind these are amazingly wonderful fetes of God.

Somehow, I suppose I relate trees to people. I believe the same questions can be asked of us. How many storms have we weathered, what shaped our branches/lives, how many tears have been shed in our hearts, how deep does our belief system grow and how have we, people, survived?

I believe that the strongest of the trees survive because they adjust to their environment, twisting and bending in the wind and yes growing around each other in an attempt to bathe in the light of the sun. We, too, should learn to extend our arms, upward, so that we can, “bathe in the light of the Son,” who provides for us, even though we are not always aware of Him.

Just Saying…  





Savannah Georgia 2017  

Savannah Georgia 2017