For the trees

I have long been fascinated by trees and their longevity on the land. If only trees could talk, just think of the stories they could tell.

Growing up at Otter Lake, the trees were familiar friends to me. Many of them had a purpose. Some held up the tire swings we played on as kids. Some held clotheslines pulled taut between two lean trunks. Some held directional signs and arrows. And many, of course, were used to build the cabins, docks and decks overlooking the lake.

Year after year I’d witness the changes in the trees, their growth, the bright greens of their spring buds, the colorful bouquets of their fall leaves and, eventually, their demise.

I would look at the largest and tallest of the trees, some of which were probably more than a century old, and think about my father, his parents and siblings and how those same trees looked to them when they were my age. Trees are witnesses to so much history and often many generations of a family who live and work on the land. Trees withstand decades of rains and snows, droughts and floods. They are sometimes damaged by bolts of lightning or gusts of wind, but their roots (similar to our family roots) bind them to the land and help them sustain through sickness and loss.

My dad and uncles would tell stories of very large trees on the property, including a massive pine behind the cabins that they long admired. When it fell due to old age, they cut kindling wood from its massive stump for many years afterwards. New saplings have now grown up and through the old trunk but its remnants still remain today.

One of my favorite sounds is the wind in the trees, especially the gentle rustling of poplar or aspen leaves. It is such a soothing, reassuring cadence, and it never changes. It was a sound heard 100 years ago and is still heard today. Trees, I think, sing to us in this way, reminding us that they are guarding the land and all who call it home: plants, animals, people.

Trees become such a part of the landscape, equally if not more memorable than the homes that we build amongst the trees. They form a canopy that shades us from the sun and rain. In autumn they awe us with their beauty, and in spring they awe us again with fresh buds and a new start.

Tree stumps tell a story, the rings showing each year of growth and renewal.