The Hidden Life of Trees is a book about how trees have social systems among themselves and how they take care of each other. Trees have “brains” in their roots that protect them and help communicate with one another. Another book called The Overstory: A Novel is a compelling fictionalized account of people’s experiences with trees and their value for civilization. In thinking about the meanings of trees in my life, three special trees come to mind.
A sprawling tall maple tree shaded the south side of my childhood farmhouse. I loved the tire swing dad put on a lower branch for us kids to use. The Angus cows huddled in its shade on the other side of the fence. It tendered the most brilliant red and orange leaves in the fall. Since our farmhouse was set on a hill, the maple was visible for some distance. When my parents sold the farm years ago, the tree was showing signs of stress. I drove by the old farm a year ago and the tree was gone. Since the farm had been in the family for almost 150 years, the maple had lived a long life under Henderson appreciation.
North Carolina has trees—lots of them. Many are tall white pines. My house in Durham with its three-fourths acre lot had dozens of trees as its natural landscape. My favorite, however, was a cedar tree that grew outside my home office window. The tree provided privacy, and songbirds loved to roost in the lower branches. My realtor offered helpful hints to make my house more desirable when I was preparing to move to Colorado. He suggested that my relationship with the house and trees might not be alluring to everyone. The cedar tree was hiding the curb appeal of the house. I balked at cutting it down. Unfortunately, a winter ice storm broke off the top. It had to go. I waited until the weekend before I put the house on the market and my neighbor helped me cut it down. My house looked naked, and I blessed the tree for all the years it had brought me and the birds such joy.
I love many trees in Rocky Mountain National Park. One of them was along the trail to Hollowell Park. It is a lone Ponderosa that had died many years ago but left a majestic silhouette of gray branches reaching toward the sky. It was the gateway to an old CCC camp once located in the area. I can imagine the stories it could tell for the century or more it presided in that meadow. Last year it fell down. The skeleton is on the ground, and the stories continue from a different vantage.
These remembered trees, and other living trees, are my ardent connection to the outdoors. I have other favorite trees that I look forward to seeing along the trails. They are like old friends when I wander upon them—the twisted limber pine on the way to Mills Lake, the tuning fork shaped ponderosa on Bridal Veil Falls Trail, and the huge Ponderosa on the northeast corner of Sprague Lake, to mention only a few.
I envy the trees. They experience firsthand the fluctuating weather as well as season transformations. I imagine trees rejoice in the bathing of the sun. I suspect they welcome the animals and insects that call them home. They are resilient in cruel weather that could tear them apart. Trees hold secrets that humans may never understand unless we continue to love and protect them.
Karla, I’m with you on this one. My favorite chapter in A Sand County Almanac is “The Good Oak.” To think what trees have witnessed in their lives. Whenever I travel to Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Parks, I love to walk among the Giant Sequoias. Oh, the stories they could tell!
Thanks for the morning lift.
Dan
I am glad you are remembering special (and ordinary) trees! Hugs to you and trees.
The Overstory is one of my favorite books; in fact in 2019 I was asked to provide a historical perspective of the profession at the CPRS opening general session (of course I was asked to be be the historian) and I used trees as my analogy. I shared brief histories of park and recreation leaders: Dorothy Enderis, Ernest T. Atwell, William Penn Mott, and Beatrice Hill and linked them to what is offered today (recreation in schools, therapeutic recreation, etc). I shared we are all here today due to the roots these leaders put down.
I have 2 favorite trees: one is a live Christmas tree my dad planted during a blinding snow storm in St. Louis; the next year he bought another live tree and that one got planted when the temperature was in the 60’s. The snow storm tree survived and provided much pleasure to me and the bunnies who lived under its branches. The second tree is a birch tree we planted in our new home in Sacramento back in 1990. It held many a bird feeder and brought beautiful color to my backyard. Sadly that tree is no longer alive and to see its dead branches lifting to the sky brings me both sadness and fond memories of sitting under the tree.
Thanks for sharing about your special trees. I sometimes think we take them for granted. The Overstory is one of the best books I have ever read but a couple other people that I recommended it to were not so enthusiastic. I am glad we share many of the connections that the book offered!
I love, love, love this piece.
I’ll bet you have stories about special trees. I am glad you enjoyed.
Love trees! This is the best comment I’ve ever read about trees. May they be with us forever! Thanks, Karla. ANNE S.
I love this focus on trees- and the picture of your house across the street in Durham brought back a lot of memories. I remember when I first moved to Durham, there were so many trees for this open prairies farm girl that I felt like I was suffocating. It was weird to not be able to see the horizons- instead it was the green canopies of the trees… but there were so many birds singing from them, and all kinds of pretty little plants sheltered under their branches… I grew to love those NC forests and miss their beauty, but have found more “favorite trees” here. So I have tree friends from all the places I’ve lived to welcome me back when/if I ever return…. 🙂
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