Silence
The death of a tree
Friends,
During a very windy storm a few weeks ago, I looked out the sliding glass door and witnessed two huge branches from our tree in the back yard crash to the ground. I heard a “crack” and down it came taking several others with it. Luckily, it fell in such a way it did not damage anything although after it was gone we noticed the trunk dislodged out fence. That will need repaired. However, upon inspection after the storm, we realized that the tree had to be removed. It was a danger with its branches so pendulous and the weakness from decay in some of the trunk of the tree. This tree covered almost all of our backyard and its length was as broad as it was tall. It stretched way into our neighbors yard. We watched one man in a cherry picker limb by limb take it down and 3 others remove its huge limbs cutting it to a manageable size. And, then….. it was gone. Now when it rains or the wind blows there is silence. No leaves rustling and no shade. So tree, this post is in memory of you. Thank you for your beauty, your shade, your structure for squirrel nests, and bird nests. Thank you for the joy of looking out the kitchen window to see your strength through the seasons. Thank you for the years you stood to witness the growth of a neighborhood around you way before we moved into our house. I wish I could have heard you tell me all about it. And maybe you were when the wind helped you to talk.
Summer blessings,
Jace
I've heard the first stanza of this famous poem many times but have never read the whole thing! TREES by Joyce Kilmer I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
“A tree is our most intimate contact with nature.” ― George Nakashima
I recently listened to this new song by Mary Chapin Carpenter about getting out among nature to find a new religion under canopies of oak trees. The words are so beautiful. Here are the lyrics and you can hear it below. It’s from her album “Personal History”.
New Religion
So it's been ages, miles and pages
All of those things that tell a story
Of catastrophe and glory
All of the hard stuff, it toughened us up
Ever the artists, punks and rebels
We wore defeats like they were medals
Back when we thought that
Time and love and hope were equal
Before the storms of life made us different people
I used to find myself walking through cathedrals
And for the price of pocket change
I'd light a candle in your name
I'm no believer in saints or seers
When every answer begged more questions
Was that a blessing or a lesson
And all of the hard stuff, turned into hard love
Chasing your ghost down dead end streets
I was forever incomplete
In the time it takes a phone to ring in my back pocket
It's like a thousand years ignited like a rocket
I would have given anything to stop it
As a stranger's voice droned on
Explaining you were gone
You were star dust, now you're cosmic
It's been ages, miles and pages
All of those things that make a story
Our catastrophes and glory
All of the journeys and their traveling mercies
Taught me how to stop and listen
And I found a new religion
My church is under canopies of oak trees
And the songs I hear make me feel they know me
There's never been a place I've found
That feels more holy
Numinous and complete
No more ghosts and dead end streets
Where air and spirit meet
And rebel hearts still beat
They're still beating