Seven years later, those green leaves have me asking, “Can I still sprout?”
The Look Back 2013–2019: September 2019
First published September 24, 2019 Revisited with a new reflection.
We’re going back to September 2019.
Look at that weathered wood. Deep cracks, worn edges, places where fallen leaves have settled. Then those bright green leaves, right there in the middle of it all!
I called the original post “New Hope Springs.” Looking at these photographs again, I can see why. I even gave the stump a few words of its own. Apparently, I thought it had something to get off its chest!
Look closely. There’s green growing in those cracks.
I came back to this photograph thinking about the stump. Now I’m thinking about myself.
What I notice now
My eye goes to the rings this time. So much wood around those slender stems. Years of growth still visible, even with pieces missing.
Seven years have passed since I shared these photographs. From 2019 to 2026, have I grown anew? Can I still sprout? Branch in a different direction maybe?
“Those questions sound a little funny when I say it about myself.” “Sprout again Robert? At this age? ”
Yes, I’m asking! I best be searching for the changes I know already happened.
Would I recognize new growth in myself if it started this small? A willingness to try again. Picking up something I thought I had finished with. I wonder how much I overlook while waiting to see a bigger change.
The American chestnut gives me more to think about. Its roots can survive after blight kills the trunk and send up new shoots. Those shoots remain vulnerable to the same disease. Beginning again can still be a struggle. About chestnut blight and surviving roots
I find hope in those living roots. They give me a way to think about faith when the visible part of life has changed. I can’t see everything that is still holding me up, or everything that might yet grow.
And I don’t know what became of the green leaves in these photographs. I am glad I have this glimpse of them beginning.
A moment from the original
Back in 2019, I wrote:
“You left my weathered stump in the ground right where I once stood so strong, so proud.”
And then the stump had its say:
“Well I got news… Surprise! Hope Springs!”
I said it before and we have seen it many times, “Life finds a way.”
I still like that bit of attitude! I gave an old stump a speaking part, and it wasn’t about to let me have the last word.
Reading it now, I hear the hope I wanted to share then. I still want to leave room for that possibility in my own life. Even if I’m not quite sure what comes next.
The Conversation Continues
Come take another look with me.
You may have something in your life that you thought was finished, too. An interest you put aside, or a part of yourself you haven’t heard from in a while.
What have you found yourself beginning again?
I’d like to hear about it. I’m still working on my own “Can I still sprout?” question. Though I suppose bringing this old photograph back for another conversation is a start!
📍 Savannah, Georgia
Collection
The Look Back, Motivational
Captured with
Nikon D3200
Published by
Robert Snap Spot
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