Many-Layered and Multi-Colored

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman

A long time ago Rob and I planted a maple tree near the right front corner of our house. I can't recall the year of the planting, though it occurred  when my body was strong enough to help dig the oversized hole and help my husband lift the tree into it. The maple tree, unlike several others we planted, decided to thrive in our space and has always thrown a party in fall, but this year it's particularly brilliant. The tree is not only glorious red, but also orange/yellow, and at the bottom, still green. It's a phenomenon that my children have also called out, and we don't know how the tree has arranged itself in such a multi-hued state.

Google stubbornly refused to answer my query, "how can one maple tree be so many colors at the same time?" It's a clunky question, certainly, but I didn't refine it because I don't really need the scientific explanation to enjoy the tree. Mr. Maple has appeared in many snapchat photos to the kids and today I took another picture while returning from a walk. This time the tree made me think of myself, and of Whitman's quote, which tries to capture the multi-faceted, sometimes chaotic and contradictory nature of people.

The green leaves at the bottom of the tree easily symbolizes youth and naivete, strength and confidence, maybe a child before the age of 11. That girl lies deep within me, and I don't see her much anymore, though I am still in touch with my angsty teenage version, perhaps green with a shade of orange. In fact, the songs I put on a playlist for my workout group all matched up with some pre-arranged playlist called "Teen Angst." I may be stuck there permanently, flaring out periodically in all of my orange glory.

Then the bright yellows of my twenties and thirties meld into the fiery reds of my fifties, and all the feelings and memories from each decade glow and flare at different times. I've seen analogies of people as Russian nesting dolls, each version or age nestled inside the next size up, but I like my maple tree better. On those trees that refuse to be limited to a single glorious color, that claim a rainbow for themselves, I see an unapologetic uniqueness, a variety of self that makes me smile. Trees, like people, aren't simple and straightforward; they are challenged and they adapt to their environments, they show scars of early damage but continue to thrive anyway, and they embrace each phase of the year, and they contain multitudes.