When a tree is more than a tree

Thoughts about a photo I took several evenings ago

1. The telephone pole is our public self, the respectable persona we show neighbors and colleagues: upright, reliable, calm. The tree is our spirit, dancing free of expectations, tossing its hair in the twilight.

2. Pole: "Can't you ever hold still?"

Tree: "No! Not when the music's on."

3. A brother and sister grow up very close but with markedly different personalities.

4. Even though she is decades past childhood, the girl still enjoys hiding, then jumping out – "Boo!" – to scare her friends.

5. The pole is a husband, strong and tall, perhaps a little rigid. He isn't (usually) silly, nor does he sway in the breeze. He is, and always has been, a grown-up.

The tree is me.