Is This Art?

 For almost 15 years, this minuscule cache has asked the question, “Is this art?” It’s our turn to find out.

Bubble clouds float in blue sky. The busy traffic artery between north Columbus and Delaware County flows. Tucked between the Sunday traffic and an empty parking lot is a stand of pines planted long ago.

These pines were once tiny, meant to showcase the pink granite quartz geometry rising above them. Trees grow, and stone does not. Day by day, over decades, patiently, silently they have turned the granite into a pile of child’s blocks, scattered among the trees.

Monument to the past, solid, immovable, yet disappearing.

Monument to the future, ever growing, changing all shapes.

We look at bark, we look at leaves, branches, needles. Round and round we circle. An ambulance screams by; traffic pulls to the side and nods to the reminder of illness and mortality, then continues on with today’s business.

The granite stands, remaining what it is. Brown spots on leaves warn of impending loss, yet the trees insist on offering their shady collage of greens.

Is this art? You decide.