Pruning

This morning while on vacation, I pruned three trees. It should have done it earlier but first there was a wedding and then the rains made the ground soggy. Noticing the sprouting leaf tips, I wondered if I should wait another year. No, I decided, now was the time.

Trimming some branches was easy: I needed a path and it was in the way. Snip! It was gone! Or, it rubbed the roof so I snipped or sawed until it was removed. Other shearing had to be thought through more carefully. I asked myself, “Which branch is really in the way?” or “Which branch will shape the tree so I can reach the fruit?” Little snips here and there were made before carefully slicing off larger portions. Round and round the tree I worked, being aware of the rule of thumb: never cut off more than one-third of the tree.

Two years ago I drastically butchered the fig tree (oh yes, a BIG third gone). Because I had never trimmed it before, I learned a hard lesson: branches that touch the ground grow roots! Lots of digging was required to get the tree down to a manageable size. This year was a breeze. The thick branches were soft and I quickly cut, knowing this tree is forgiving and will soon grow back in.

The pygmy tangelo was the smallest of the three, but the wood was the hardest. Pruning shears only worked on the littlest twigs and I had to be careful to saw only the deadwood, not living branches. As I worked I was reminded of when we edit our writing:

It never seems to be the right season.

Sometime little snips are best.

Other times we must lop off sentences, well-loved paragraphs, or even chapters.

At times we have to dig around asking ourselves appraising questions to determine which are the most important parts to keep. This can be hard because so much effort and emotion are rooted into the writing.

Just as climbing a ladder gives new perspective to not only see which branch needs to be cut and how far back, asking a friend to critique our work can give us the feeling of being lifted up on a giant’s back, so we have new insights to consider. Freedom to cut can become clearer.

With training I learned that the branch I have the most trouble with on the apricot tree should have been cut off the second year we had the tree. Wanting the tree to live, I needed to remember the rule of not cutting off more than one third. It has taken me years to reshape it but it has been worth it. I think we have to be careful when we edit to not cut too much off at a time. The integrity of the piece needs to be maintained. That doesn’t mean it won’t eventually be cut down to the right size. It may just have to mature a little longer so we wait until the next time or season we edit.

Once I found myself thanking the disconnected branch for its production of fruit! That was funny; I have never yet been able to eat a single ripe apricot, considering the birds get to them first. Being grateful for the process allows us to appreciate the finished product even more.

Besides, it humbles us when someone gushes about our writing when we know just how much we agonized over it for hours, days, weeks, months, or years.

As I look out my window, I like what I see. The trees will grow better now that they have been trimmed. I can clean up my pruning tools and put them away for awhile. But just like with our writing, we need to keep our tools sharpened and techniques close at hand so they will be ready each time we look at a piece.

Go Outside to Explore and Inspire Your Writing

For several months I have had the dream of taking writers out to explore nature and inspire writing. Today being Martin Luther King Day was perfect timing to fulfill that dream. Students from our after-school writing club brought signed permission slips for the holiday field trip which was to the Riparian Preserve in Gilbert, Arizona. It had rained this morning so it was cold, wet, and breezy as seven of us (three students and four adults) gathered for the excursion.

Walking through the gate near Cattail Crawl, we reminded everyone to use all the senses, not to just rely on what we see. Smells, thoughts, and textures can add meaning and dimension to our experience. The first spot we stopped was at the water’s edge where we watched it sprinkle. One of the boys said the sprinkles represent ideas or words. The fourth-grade girl said they were ideas that hit you and you want to write about them. Watching the circle disappear after the drop hit, the other sixth-grade boy responded by saying, “When you have an idea, you better write it down quickly before it goes away.”

Looking at a prickly pear one student said we should let ideas stick to us. My writer friend and former teacher told us that the sharp thorns remind her of metaphors and similes; they get right to the point so you can feel them prick your heart. Seeing a dried up fruit on the ground, I commented that the cactus reminded me of the pain and torment I go through to get my thoughts on paper, yet how pleased I am with the fruits of my labor when the writing finally comes together.

Mud cracks and pot holes reminded us to be aware of cracks and holes in our writing. One young man who was chasing the other boy stopped suddenly and pointed to a pile of leaves. “That reminds me of softness and love,” he said; then he started looking for animal tracks. Two adult women imagined the conversation going on between a gander and three white hens. Coming upon a yucca plant, a participant said, “Let your imagination expand!” He then amplified his thought by saying that each spike was a different idea and the serrated edges were the extra details you could add.

Time was almost up and we wanted to get back to the ramada to write and share. Besides, the increased wind made it colder. I had to put gloves on as we trucked the last part of the trail. It reminded me of how quickly a story comes to a close. Sometimes we come across things and places, like the refreshing stream, that we want to stop and explore, but these are only distractions. We can come back later and investigate more thoroughly for future writing projects.

We spent the last half hour munching apples, writing and sharing. One boy wrote a journal entry and included the drawing of a leaf so he could remember the day. An adult wrote to a leaf, asking why it had so many holes. Another participant shared her poetic observations that she had written while we walked. The sixth-grade teacher commented that the animals we saw softened our hearts.

We want to come back and get the rest of the club members to join us. We liked that we weren’t just learning but were experiencing the world we live in. Spring Break seems too far away so maybe we will come back some Saturday. We just need to pick a date to come. As one mother picked up her daughter, she told us the girl had given up two hours of food and fun at Amazing Jakes with her family and friends just to be there. Yes, taking time for writing is a sacrifice we writers (of all ages) are willing to make!

Suggestions for your own outdoor experience:

take a camera to record what you see and remind you of what you learned

take a snack (and water); you’ll get hungry!

take a friend; it’s amazing what you learn as you share your thoughts and build upon each other’s ideas

of course, take a journal and writing utensil; after all, we are writers and need to record our thoughts and feelings.