Who says bare isn't beautiful?
Dare we echo this in the hollow of Timberline’s stage? With his burly roots deeply embedded within the crevices of Grand Canyon's South Rim, his outstretched limbs seemed to cry, "Holy is the Land!" It is a wonderfully liberating feeling when one comes to terms with the fact that it is possible to stand tall and to do so with confidence, however lowly our station in life. And all while in the presence of such grandeur
This is a reality Timberline truly embraced. Surrounded by red rock and blue sky, he's on top of the world relishing his day in the sun. His lack of a showy external dress consisting of weathered bark and leafless twigs need not cause his limbs to wither in shame, for beneath his peel is a delightfully smooth inner beauty. At the ushering in of winter's frost he stands humbly, yet proud, without so much as a murmur as his nakedness is magically transformed in to a shimmering ice statue.
The exquisiteness of Timberline's thick trunk is beautiful in its own right. But his beauty reaches far beyond his outer surface. Beneath his rock bed your mind’s eye is beckoned to explore his roots; they are truly the secret behind his quiet strength and unscathed beauty.
Trees grow in myriads of shapes and sizes, all blooming at different stages. These differences define their individuality and uniqueness. Timberline is not unlike more stately trees in that, he, too displays a crown of bark and twigs. It matters not that he has been stripped of his leaves. His crown cannot be taken from him. It is simply a part of his family tree.
As I stood above a hole in the ground a mile deep, my gaze fell upon this tree of which I speak. While it is true—Timberline lacked a display of showy leaves dancing to the tune of wind’s gentle breeze—in no way did this tree lack inner-strength and abounding beauty. When we take care to dig below the surface in an effort to see beyond the superfluity of outer beauty, it is not difficult to grasp hold of the root of what truly matters.