Further reading, Blasted Oak

My sensitive friend Carol Lynn wrote via Facebook  in response to my  post Gordon Frickers – Captain’s log star date 03.04.2016. Not…)Blasted Oak, Sivens IMG_3676 x r

This one captivates the eye… For as soon as you see one thing… Your eyes will see it in a different perspective… When you look at it again. It also has a more joyful feeling!
I replied:
on ‘Gordon Frickers – Captain’s log star date 03.04.2016. Not…’

I’d not thought of it like that, thank you Carol Lynn. I’ve a long love affair with oak trees. I love their looks, variety, to climb them, the shapes of their leaves, their smell and as a timber for carpenters and boat builders oak is the king.  I met This particular Mr.Oak de Sivens one day in a clearing in the foret de Sivens while actively looking for subjects to paint ‘plien aire’. Middle aged, it had been blasted by lightening, survived, lives on. I admire that and liked the symbolism. Many of us have similar experiences. The weak and feeble crack up, cry, divorce, hide in their ‘caves’, what ever, even die. I am pleased to report, I saw this tree again in 2014, looking well on the way to a complete recovery. The best of us as Rudyard Kipling put it in his inspired and inspiring poem “If”, get on with it as does this ‘Blasted Oak’“.
Oh and by the way “If” reads as follows:
IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
‘ Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

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