We’ve only got a small yard here in Pittsburgh but I’ve been able to plant two small native trees since we moved in - a red bud and a dogwood. And I’m considering sneaking in one more.
Doug Tallamy’s writings have also really got me excited about trees and all the insect life they support. His last book is all about oak trees! If you haven’t read any of his work, I’d recommend it!
Thanks for the tip, will take a look at Doug Tallamy’s work! And I like the idea of sneaking in a tree. They are but wee little things - whoever will notice?
My husband and I planted a peach tree when we moved into our home, in honor of our daughter, who at the time was six months old. The next year my dad, who was mowing our lawn for us, lost control of the riding lawn mower and ran over it 😂 We laugh about it now (and he paid for us to replace it with another peach tree), but wow, was it painful to see our only special tree totally destroyed.
My other special trees are a set of four white pines growing just over our property line, in our neighbor's yard, which I can see from my home office. They are enormous, probably 60 feet tall. When I first started a 12-Step program and was really struggling with the idea of a higher power (I didn't grow up with any specific faith tradition and am not a religious person), I decided just to pray to these beautiful trees. Over time, I sensed that there was a spirit in them that was I was talking to -- an old woman, with long silver hair that she keeps pinned up, wearing a purple tunic. That spirit -- and those trees -- became the God of my understanding. It had (still has) a huge impact on me and I'm deeply grateful.
Wow, what a beautiful and powerful story, thank you so much for sharing, Sarah. I’m so gladdened to hear that you were able to connect with something… else… in the majesty of those giant trees, and find some solace and support there.
On a lighter note: the peach tree! I’m afraid I did let out a little snort at the slapstick mental image of your dad careening into the sapling. For some reason I’m picturing a kind of older, greyer, Ben Stiller - feels very Meet the Fockers to me.
It's a perfect image, I think. We weren't home when it happened -- he was (supposedly) doing us a favor while we were at work -- but I can imagine it was very funny. Like I said, we laugh about it now (and haven't let him back on our lawn mower since!)
Your childhood memory reminded me of when I was about 10, spending hours with my best friend climbing all over a large fallen tree. We named the tree, and created our own imaginary world around it. I also love that you've done your bit to add more trees to the local landscape.
We’ve only got a small yard here in Pittsburgh but I’ve been able to plant two small native trees since we moved in - a red bud and a dogwood. And I’m considering sneaking in one more.
Doug Tallamy’s writings have also really got me excited about trees and all the insect life they support. His last book is all about oak trees! If you haven’t read any of his work, I’d recommend it!
Thanks for the tip, will take a look at Doug Tallamy’s work! And I like the idea of sneaking in a tree. They are but wee little things - whoever will notice?
My husband and I planted a peach tree when we moved into our home, in honor of our daughter, who at the time was six months old. The next year my dad, who was mowing our lawn for us, lost control of the riding lawn mower and ran over it 😂 We laugh about it now (and he paid for us to replace it with another peach tree), but wow, was it painful to see our only special tree totally destroyed.
My other special trees are a set of four white pines growing just over our property line, in our neighbor's yard, which I can see from my home office. They are enormous, probably 60 feet tall. When I first started a 12-Step program and was really struggling with the idea of a higher power (I didn't grow up with any specific faith tradition and am not a religious person), I decided just to pray to these beautiful trees. Over time, I sensed that there was a spirit in them that was I was talking to -- an old woman, with long silver hair that she keeps pinned up, wearing a purple tunic. That spirit -- and those trees -- became the God of my understanding. It had (still has) a huge impact on me and I'm deeply grateful.
Wow, what a beautiful and powerful story, thank you so much for sharing, Sarah. I’m so gladdened to hear that you were able to connect with something… else… in the majesty of those giant trees, and find some solace and support there.
On a lighter note: the peach tree! I’m afraid I did let out a little snort at the slapstick mental image of your dad careening into the sapling. For some reason I’m picturing a kind of older, greyer, Ben Stiller - feels very Meet the Fockers to me.
It's a perfect image, I think. We weren't home when it happened -- he was (supposedly) doing us a favor while we were at work -- but I can imagine it was very funny. Like I said, we laugh about it now (and haven't let him back on our lawn mower since!)
Janet L. Cucharo
Writes Above Ground in Grave Times and Pinching Pansies
1 min ago
I actually wrote a poem about my favorite tree.
This tree was my friend.
THE JAPANESE MAPLE
The Japanese maple
stood like a beacon
in front of my home on Marion Street
It stood like a landmark
for those who came calling
It stood like an emperor
and simply
a tree
I climbed up its branches and
spied on the neighbors
hidden by hundreds and hundreds of leaves
I sat in its coolness
sheltered from sunshine
I knew every crook of each limb
It knew me
In autumn
its tresses were burnished in russet
shining like rubies beneath turquoise skies
In winter
its starkness revealed its true beauty
spreading arms open for road weary eyes
The Japanese maple
had lived a whole lifetime
when I first came to know it the year I was born
It stood like a sentry
endured like a friendship
but now I have lived
and the maple is gone
The Japanese maple
is no more a beacon
in front of the house on Marion Street
It is no more a landmark
for those who come calling
It is no more an emperor
And no more
a tree
Thanks so much for sharing this poem. Very moving. “and simply a tree” - I love that.
Your childhood memory reminded me of when I was about 10, spending hours with my best friend climbing all over a large fallen tree. We named the tree, and created our own imaginary world around it. I also love that you've done your bit to add more trees to the local landscape.
What a lovely memory - there is something magical about a fallen tree, its form and its unknown history and all the new life thriving amid the decay.