“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see” ~ Henry David Thoreau

Have you ever driven through the Pacific Northwest or the Redwoods? Or taken an airplane over the Ozarks, the Cascades, the Appalachian or Blue Ridge Mountains? If so, then undoubtedly you’ve seen some hearty landscape – forest lands as far as your eyes could see; peaks and valleys dotted with “leftover” trees or newly planted saplings. It can be mesmerizing. And, although it’s the same scenery for everyone’s eyes, it can come across entirely different.

When I look out my office window, I see trees – cherry, blue fir, maple, ash and redbuds. I love the different colors, heights, shapes … and it’s these individual facets that lend depth to a landscape; much like individual characteristics help to define a human being.

But. When I drive or fly, I don’t notice the trees. I don’t see their individuality, their uniqueness. But. They’re still there … independently even though I consider them more of a conglomerate – as a forest, if you will. Of course without the individual tree, the forest wouldn’t exist.

Literally speaking, my eyes cannot focus on one tree from the window of an airplane. I cannot see the bird’s nest, the squirrel’s tail, or even the varying shades of green that give radiance to the forest. But the farther away I am, the bigger the picture becomes – which in itself, I suppose, is a way of telling me that sometimes it’s the stepping back from an issue that allows one to view it in its entirety.

So my dear readers I leave you with this … When you look at the forest, consider the trees. Likewise, when you see the tree, remember the forest.

This post inspired by the Daily Prompt: Landscape: “When you gaze out your window — real or figurative — do you see the forest first, or the trees?”