Note: I am in the process of archiving my writings disperced across social media platforms on my own website here. This is a mirror post of “look again #2: the tree in front of my house“ on my Substack page (cringe) processing.

This is a silly little project: to take a photo of the tree in front of my house. Every day. For a month. Most days it takes just a few seconds to simply pull out my phone and snap a shot. Wherever I am. Whenever it is. Whenever I think of the tree.

We typically connect when I get out of the house. It could be when I leave the house in the early morning, late morning, or sometimes, in the late afternoon. It could be when I return to the house in the morning, afternoon, or evening.

The tree has stood there on the sidewalk, by the driveway, witnessing me pulling in and out with my car for month after month. I am embarrassed to have neglected it all these years while taking pictures of beautiful flowers, cute kitties, sprouting leaves, and even other trees in the neighborhood.

One day a few months ago, my spouse noticed its struggles: strangled by unruly ivies we have left unattended. He started to cut down the ivies bit by bit. The strangling vines dried out, loosening their grips on the tree.

On one random trash day in July, I felt inclined to nip out all sprouting ivies on the clean side he worked on. That sprouted the idea of this project to encourage me to slow down for a few seconds each day to greet this tree.

There were days this month when I forgot. Either because I never stepped out of the house. Or because I was too caught up in my own mind. I stood in the study, opened the curtain, and took a snap. You can see the metal screen in some. You can see reflections of the indoor lights in others. These barriers between me inside the house and the tree right outside textured the photos.

The sun rises. The sun sets. The moon rises. The moon sets. This tree stands by this old little house against blue skies, grey overcasts, and dark nights. How can you not romanticize.