My Friends, the Trees

The outline of a tree against the sky attracts me as a thing of beauty.  I want to savor that beauty and look again and again to enjoy the pattern of its branches.

Fond memories of trees come back to me, beginning from my early childhood.  Our home was at the foot of a mountain in Kentucky.  The woods became my playground.  Huge grapevines fell from the branches of the trees and we could swing Tarzan fashion in childish delight.

 At a later time our home was beside the Cumberland River.  In our back yard a huge apple tree grew right beside the flowing water.  The tree took life from the water and gave back a generous supply of apples for youngsters to enjoy on any summer day. And enjoy we did, sitting on the big branch hanging over the water, with salt shaker in hand.

 Trees continued to fascinate me into college when I enrolled in a class in Dendrology. Many a week-end date was spent on a picnic in the woods searching for the uncommon Kentucky coffee tree.  Our teacher had promised us an automatic A, should we bring in a specimen from that rare tree.  I did not find it that year.  However many years later I did find several very near my sister’s home, but too late for that A.  I still have the book from that class.  It is the Whittlesey House Field Guide of trees of the Eastern United States and Canada, copyright 1942.

 I like to think that my two children learned to love trees from me.  As preschoolers in Maryland they used to watch with me a huge old oak tree which bridged our back yard with a forest of hardwoods.  After a damp day, as the bark began to dry out, lovely patterns of dark and light gray could be seen appearing on the sturdy trunk.  This visual barometer assured us that dampness was leaving and dryness was coming, so that outdoor play was not far away. That same tree harbored a family of redheaded woodpeckers.  We spent many happy times watching the babies hop about on the tree trunk before they made their first flight through the oaks and hickories.

 The leaf of a Gingko has always held my interest.  They originated in China. What makes them so interesting is that they are unique in nature.  All of the veins are parallel coming out from the stem in a fan like shape.  Back in Kentucky there was a mighty Gingko beside the post office in our town.  Wherever I go I look for these trees which are well adapted to urban conditions.  I found one on our playground at Dyer Elementary School in Lawrenceville, Georgia.   In the fall when the unusual leaves turn to a rich golden color, it is a standout specimen.  There is a row of them planted beside St. Paul’s Methodist church in Gainesville.  Also a row of them are planted in front of the J and J Grocery on Browns Bridge road.

 Where I now live, I have plenty of room for all the trees I could possibly want.  I really have to restrain myself when it comes to buying them, but I can always admire them as I travel around north Georgia, or simply look out of my windows.  One more thing needs to be said in tribute to this stationary, generous friend.  She gives us our very life when she takes our breath and sends it back as oxygen, ready to renew us once again.  So, how could we possibly live without our friends, the trees?  We could not, nor would I ever want to do so.