Over the holidays, we noticed a new sign up on one of our local hills. Just behind Taco Temple, and not far from where kindergartner Nate thought “God was buried.” In his defense, on the mountainside there’s an enormous cross made of rocks surrounded by stones stacked in the shape of what can only be described as headstone.
The new sign on the hill spells the word “W O N D E R” in white lights. It’s understated and magical and I love where it takes my mind as we drive home at night.
Back in the springtime, we all got home after a weekend away and James was checking over his little bonsai forest. He had recently bought figurines that he placed under two tiny trees— one was a contented looking frog, and the other was a serene yet mischievous little bunny, both sitting in a meditative lotus position.
If you didn’t know, James was a collector. His latest interest was in bonsai. Over the last two years or so he collected all kinds of baby trees. He would find them on sale or in a back corner of an obscure nursery. We started visiting or revisiting all manner of Japanese and Chinese gardens including the Portland Japanese and Chinese gardens, Saratoga, San Francisco, and Pasadena. We didn’t make it to Lotusland, but the boys and I will make it happen. James liked to watch videos of a Cal Poly grad on YouTube. We’d joke about his “bonsai naps.” Ultimately, he enjoyed the quiet time caring for his trees, and the legacy and longevity they represent when done well.
So we get home from this trip and the new bunny is missing. We look everywhere. It’s disappeared and we’re convinced a bird or a squirrel or, heaven forbid, a rat has gulped it down or carried it off. Months pass and James moves his entire bonsai collection over to the deck on the back of the barn. The collection has grown and many trees take up residence in the enclosed wire garden shed that allows rain and sun in, and keeps the tall gophers out. That’s what James calls deer. We watch our neighbor, Julian, tear down the old house with an excavator I call T-Rex, so we can start building the new main house. In the end, our little frog is lonely but safe.
Fast forward to the day after James passed away. I go outside to check on his baby trees as I don’t know if we’ve watered them for a couple of days. I walk down the steps, open the door to the bonsai “shed” and stop in my tracks… the bunny is back. Sitting serenely under its little tree. A few days later, Jacob comes outside to help me. He stops and exclaims, “Mom… the bunny is back! When did that happen?” And I tell him the day after Dad died. Our eyes both get big. And we smile.
You have to admit… it makes you wonder.
