16 x 20, acrylic on canvas
This fine old tree called to me as I drove down a road in Broken Arrow. When we stopped and I walked up to it, I thought of a photo I had seen of my father’s great-grandfather, who emigrated to the US from England to fight in our civil war. An Andersonville survivor, there he stood, many years later, shortly after my father’s birth, staring out at me, back straight, head held high, a steady gaze that belied his age. This tree was probably only a small sapling when that photo was taken, nearly a hundred years ago. But he looks like it, now. An old soldier. Wounded but not defeated, strong, sound and not bowed. A survivor, with a strength that comes from within and withstands any storm the world can throw at him.
