An Ancient Redbud, And a Conversation

I was walking up Hampshire St. this morning, on my way to meet my friend Jeff at our collaborative garden plot and do some weeding. We’re in a persistent chill period which will not quit. It’s spring — we need and deserve some balmy sunny days!

I happened across a gnarled and burly redbud tree in someone’s yard. Such picturesque ligneous contortions! I got out my camera and took a few shots. Here’s one of them:

I haven’t taken any shots this spring of redbud trees in bloom. Frankly, I think that the magenta coloration of the blooms is a bad design choice.

I heard a rumble of thunder; I glanced up and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Suddenly a deep, hollow, and angry voice seemed to come from every direction at once. What the hell?

“PUNY MORTAL, YOU DARE TO CRITICIZE MY DESIGN CHOICES? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, LARRY?”

“Well, you have to admit magenta is just a bit garish.”

“I DON’T HAVE TO ADMIT ANYTHING TO THE LIKES OF YOU! YOU’D BETTER WATCH IT — I CAN MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL. ONCE SATAN GETS BACK FROM ROVING ABOUT ON THE EARTH AND WALKING BACK AND FORTH ACROSS IT HE AND I JUST MIGHT MAKE ANOTHER WAGER ABOUT YOU! HOW’D YOU LIKE 2010? WANT ANOTHER YEAR LIKE IT?”

I keep telling myself: “Don’t annoy petulant and vengeful deities!” I may have stepped in it again, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

“No, I don’t want another year like 2010. Why do you keep pickin’ on me, anyway? I’m a good person!”

“YOU ATHEISTS JUST IRK ME! WHY DON’T YOU JUST GET WITH THE PROGRAM AND ABASE YOURSELF?”

“And then there’s the wombat…”

The thunder began rumbling again.

“WHAT’S…WRONG…WITH…THE…WOMBAT?”

“Well, it kinda looks like it was cobbled together from spare animal parts.”

“I CONSIDER THE WOMBAT TO BE ONE OF MY BEST EFFORTS. YOU’RE JUST DEFICIENT IN TASTE, YOU SHORT-LIVED MORTAL, YOU”

“YOU’VE WASTED ENOUGH OF MY TIME, LARRY. YOU’VE GOTTEN ME PISSED OFF — I MIGHT CAUSE A NATURAL DISASTER, JUST TO VENT. THE NEW MADRID FAULT IS DUE FOR A SHAKING — MAYBE I’LL GIVE IT A TWEAK.”

“No, don’t do it here! Find some Third-world country in which to wreak havoc, please!”

“WELL, OKAY. BUT JUST THIS ONCE! I CAN’T BE TOO INDULGENT TO HUMANS OR THEY GET SPOILED AND COMPLACENT.”

The booming voice began to diminish in volume; I caught this statement before it faded away completely:

“THAT LARRY! QUESTIONING MY TASTE IN FLOWER COLORS AND ANIMAL DESIGN! I’LL HAVE TO HAVE A TALK WITH SATAN ABOUT HIM…”

I really need to stay under the radar with such deities .. they’re worse than the police!

Larry

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5 Comments

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5 responses to “An Ancient Redbud, And a Conversation

  1. Joan

    Anti Magenta Larry

    Magenta phobic! That’s too bad
    And what is really really sad
    This redbud hue predominates
    In other trees with different traits.
    In blossoms of magnolia tree
    And blushing dogwood you can see
    This super deep and pinkish hue
    Which fate would rule you must pooh pooh.
    And cherry blossoms; what of those?
    You’d chop the tree, I must suppose.
    Well, George did that. but he confessed
    And now our capitol is blessed
    With cherry trees. They’re truly awesome.
    In spring they’re Washington’s main blossom.

    And next we have this verbal parry
    With God, which seems a tad bit scary.
    To take a chance and tick off God.
    The timing here is truly odd.
    More lethal winds are due in May
    And floods abound. What can I say?
    I’d really be more circumspect
    Or things could truly go to heck.
    There’s one last thing that vexes me
    Can anti-theists really see
    And talk to God? Well, golly gee!
    Who would have thought He’d be appearing
    For Larry’s anti fuchsia jeering.
    This old maxim deserves a mention:
    The kid, who acts out, gets attention.

  2. Virginia

    Great picture and conversation, Larry. Joan your cautionary poem is appropriate for this season (and funny too). Tsunami, widespread fire in Texas, massive flooding, and bad storms from January on to the latest devastation. The magenta criticism seems a small thing in light of the natural phenomena.

  3. Joan

    You know, Virginia. I must confess I didn’t read Larry’s discussion all the way through before I saw red (well magenta) , and seized the opportunity to write a poem to defend the flowers and the color.. I just jumped right in . I have a number of sweatshirts in various shades of magenta or fuchsia. My wise-acre son calls them my ‘fugenta’ shirts. Anyway I re-read Larry’s post this minute at a more leisurely pace and it seems it’s a lot more scary than I thought. In fact is seems scary because I actually have read comments along this vein from people..not God, which is why I wrote the original Twisted Thinking poem a few days back.
    BTW That portion of the Larry post where God says “I don’t have to admit anything to the likes of you” sounds a lot like God’s conversation with Job, though. (grin)

  4. The funny thing about this post is that I never explicitly identified the “all-caps” speaker as God. I didn’t need to, and I confess that I borrowed the “all-caps” idea from Terry Pratchett, who used that typographical convention for his “Death” character in many novels.

    Regarding flower colors, Joan, there are many shades and variations. I’m very fond of the manifold shades visible in the blooms of apples, plums, and other Rose Family members; what I object to is the unalloyed magenta of redbud and certain phlox varieties. I’m sure that I will have further dialogs with “Mr. All-Caps” and with any luck I may be able to convince him to hold off on the esthetically flawed color choices. Either that or he will just crush me beneath his iron-shod heels!

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