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It is a beautiful sign that renewed life is upon us .

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 Ce intimplare , sa citesc cartea lui Andrei Plesu *Parabolele lui Iisus. Adevarul ca poveste*, care cuprinde o multitudine de explicatii  studiate si structurate de autor cat se poate de serios, chiar sub valul de flori al legendei copacului  dogwood  . Cartea abunda in formulari memorabile (cum ar fi: * Parabolele sunt efectul rastignirii intelectului divin pe lemnul limitelor ratiunii omenesti*), care imi provoaca mici furnicaturi si pentru cateva clipe imi innobileaza compozitia  airului ce-l respir facandu-mi-l mai pretios . Si imi zic : parca as  vrea sa fiu recunoscatoare cuiva dar nu stiu cui  . Ridic ochii din carte si ii odihnesc   pe  legenda .Stiu cui sa-i fiu recunoscatoare….

Many years ago, a dogwood tree grew on a hill outside Jerusalem. In those days, the dogwood tree was as tall and mighty as an oak, and this tree was the tallest of all the dogwoods, and extremely proud of its strength.

“Something wonderful is going to happen to me,” it said to anyone who would listen. “I’ll probably become the mast that holds the big sail on a grand ship, or the main timber supporting a great house.”

Unfortunately, the huge old dogwood was cut down to become the cross to which Jesus was nailed. The tree was horrified. All its dreams of glory were smashed, and it groaned in agony as two boards from its trunk were nailed together.

Jesus took pity on the tree, even as he carried it to Calvary. “You will never be put to such use again,” He told it. “From this day on, your shape will change, even as will the world. You will become slender and sway easily with the breeze. And instead of acorns, you will bear flowers in the shape of a cross… with two long and two short petals. In the center of the outer edge of each petal, there will be nail prints… brown with rust and red with bloodstains to show the world how you have suffered.”

“Last of all, the center of your flowers will be marked as though with a crown of thorns to remind people forevermore, that you and I spent our last moments together.” And so it was. And so it is.

In Jesus’ time, the dogwood grew
To a stately size and a lovely hue.
‘Twas strong and firm, its branches interwoven.
For the cross of Christ its timbers were chosen.
Seeing the distress at this use of their wood
Christ made a promise which still holds good:
“Never again shall the dogwood grow
Large enough to be used so.
Slender and twisted, it shall be
With blossoms like the cross for all to see.
As blood stains the petals marked in brown,
The blossom’s center wears a thorny crown.
All who see it will remember Me
Crucified on a cross from the dogwood tree.
Cherished and protected, this tree shall be
A reminder to all of My agony.

The Dogwood would only bloom for a very short time before and after the date of the crucifixion, the flower would have just 4 petals representing the hands and feet of Christ, they would be marked with a hole and the blood of Christ and the center of the flower would be circular raised and represent the head of Christ wearing the crown of thorns.

And so it is today, the Dogwood is a small twisted tree, it blooms at Easter and the flower….well look for yourself.

The pink dogwood is said to represent the blushing of shame for shedding innocent blood. The weeping dogwood represents a heartfelt cry over this tree’s being used to crucify Christ.

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Totul a inceput  Sambata . Mi-am  usurat traista de moasa comunala ce-mi purta si garderoba  ambulanta de : manusi , caciula, fular, sal si iar manusi – caci niciodata nu stii cu ce  trebuie sa  te asortezi in functie de  temperatura oscilanta a lui March madness si  April shower- May flowers . Semnele  continuau sa  se arate varatece iar Dumineca m-a cuprins febra  gradinarului, sa-mi fac o manecura cu pamant,  de  fapt sa-mi ordonez -aranjez deck ul , sa ne putem  bucura de veveritele obraznice   ce ne arunca cojile  nucilor in cafea .

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Atata a ramas din fiica  risipitoare mioritica – mana  raneste floarea purtatoare , caci gradinaritul este o activitate dificila pe  care unii o privesc de sus , cand nu poti sa-ti  cobori privirea  la * a fi samanta si a te sprijini pe propriul tau pamant *- sufletul meu a ales la urma un ghid : * Thoughtful gardening *  [ Robin Lane Fox]  care ma indruma cum sa-mi murdaresc  mainile cu bucurie si placere ….

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Luni , m-am  alaturat oamenilor turisti, care se bucura de  Cherry Blossoms  din jurul lui  Tidal Basin si care  sunt la  fel de spectaculari ca  acesti nori de petale roz -alb .

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Nunta   ciresilor  anul acesta a tinut  fix  cinci zile  cu nebunia lor  cu tot. Caldura neobisnuita de june i-a explodat rapid, asa ca  am fost parte  la parada de  ciclisti , scutere , segawy  (  nu stiu cum sa le zic – )http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=1jpmJgi-6iw#!  si   faimosii  Rollerbladers cu antenele atasate  la helmet- sa  nu auda nimic  din ce-i in  jurul lor . Cei mai multi , daca nu toti ,se grabesc sa ajunga la un  spot unde sa le iasa poza  perfecta cu  un view spectacular ca si  transportul lor . Putini pedestrieni stiu  ca  exista un shuttle la Hains Points care in  schimbul unui  buck primesti un * pink ticket* ce  te duce la  punctul culminant, Jefferson Memorial , comod si destins , facand  o bucla in  jurul lui East Potomac Park  cu multe opriri .http://dc.about.com/od/restaurant1/a/EastPotomacPk.htm

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Marti , pe  strada 19 , m-a imbratisat culoarea roz a drumului spre job . Traista de moasa  comunala imi strivea umarul , cel cu bretelute si dantelute, dar nu mai era timp de vaicarit, asa ca  am trecut  durerea la  gat . Adica   mi-am  atarnat  *the  big cam*de  gat . Bucuria de *chick who click* a invins.

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Miercuri, caldura  ne-a  aruncat pe toti in  flip-flops syndrome, hats, shorts , bluzite de vara si  hai la locul nestiut decat de localnici , Kenwood, and hurry up , caci joi  revenim la April . Aici fauna era  domestica : copii mici , copii mari , seniori si  juniori , picnic matinal cu brunch la iarba verde, trubaduri de ziua ,catei mari , catei mici si eu desculta in park  cu o cafea rece. ( da, Valentina , cu gheata 🙂

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Joi, pana  mai apoi , adica  fix in zori de ziua, trasnete si fulgere m-au trezit cu noaptea-n cap si o temperatura ce  ne-a bagat rapid in sneakers si bluejeans . Gata  vara , inapoi la sezonul normal si ce-a  ramas  dupa nunta florilor efemere.  Vin  lalelele cu olandejii lor zburatori si liliacul vesel…. a lui Strauss,  fiul or tatal, n-are importanta , eu cred ca al bunicii 🙂  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5LzH8uABMg

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more picx ;https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.597700446907891.1073741832.100000038224132&type=1

si-am incalecat pe-o sa si v-am spus…..cum infloresc  ciresii .

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…I’ve been very fortunate that  I’ve had very few regrets in my life , but I remember when I was a kid I would think with a certain amount of anxiety that it would have been nice to be able to sit by  the Mississippi with Mark Twain .

I later thought , wow, what it would have been like to be *back in  time * and to be able to appreciate that level of life with  love and humbleness . Even *humble* attitudes can be masks of pride.

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..to all my romanian friends..

Christos a inviat !

…exista ape sacre ce-si aduna numai in mine fluxul domolit…

..vapai ce pentru altii ard in Luna splendori impodobite cu urat…

…ca sa le apar vraja, le inchid in labirindul spaimelor din mine in care sufletul, ca un lichid  ia forma trupului care-l contine .

…nici eu nu stiu ce am in maini, nici pasul meu spre ce taram ma-ndreapta. Si stau asa , retrasa-n mine insami- ca un Orpheus pe-o treapta a unui univers lipsit de glas.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihzw3UTneL4&feature=related

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…. *whom  shall I send and who will go for us *….[Isaiah 6:8]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1eIIMoZ4hg&feature=related

In  linistea din jur – acordurile celui nascut azi – vuiesc  in mine . Si totusi- ce teribila-ncercare : sa vad pe dinafara ochiu-n care ma desfasor , o clipa, ca un vis or doar o vijelie…

… Un templu . Sus. In vale curge raul. Lumina devasteaza echilibrul tacerei . Pe drum , o umbra istovita intarzie  impungand printre pietre coloanele cerului gol . Iar in adancuri , ignorandu-si  haina de aparente vii , sta moarta Taina… e si aici Craciun .

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