I am saddened and concerned about all the trees that have been lost
I can't remember when I did not have a fondness for trees. When I was very young we lived in the inner city of Yonkers, NY and there was a chestnut tree in our front yard. It sat in the middle of a small plot of grass and my parents tended and nurtured it and the grass with great care. It was a 3 family house, a triple decker; we lived on the second floor.
My earliest memory if of the Chestnut tree is looking out of our front windows seeing it barely reaching the top of the first floor windows. By the time we moved it had grown so that it was taller than the 2nd floor windows and was reaching towards the 3rd floor.
It had large leaves arranged in groupings of seven. Each spring it had delicate white flowers that grew into chestnuts which were great fun to collect and play with. The branches and leaves hung gracefully and danced gaily in the wind. At our school, PS 19, we were required to memorize and recite Joyce Kilmer's poem, Trees. I still see that beautiful chestnut tree in my mind's eye whenever I think of lines from that poem.
(By way of clarification, if you are from the New York State you will know this, but other may not, to New Yorkers anyplace and all places in state north of New York City and lower Westchester county are "up-state". So, even though Shrub Oak, where we moved, is only about 45 miles north of NYC, it was and is considered "up-state".)
When we moved "up-state", to Shrub Oak, a major point of debate and compromise with the builder of our house was to not remove the trees that were on the property, but to work around and preserve them. This left us with a row of tulip trees along the front road. In the back road there were 2 clusters of large weeping willows and centrally placed in the back yard was a large and stately elm.
As with the Chestnut tree in Yonkers these were tended and cared for and, except for the elm grew and flourished. The elm, like so many, succumbed to Dutch Elm Disease and eventually had to be cut down. That was a very sad, sad day. The tree had a raised terrace of grass surrounding which was braced with a stone wall my Dad had built. There was a flower bed in front of the stone wall that had assorted bulbs and was in continuous bloom from early spring to fall. It was so pretty to see, so nice to sit under and our dog loved running in circles around it, even when she wasn't being chased!
When we moved to Shrub Oak it was very rural with lots of undeveloped land and lots of woods and fields to explore.
Many hours were spent with my parents or friends walking and roaming in the woods, playing all sorts of imaginary games and enjoying the many and varied trees. Birch trees became my favorite. I love the small clusters that they grow in, their delicate white bark, their graceful trunks. Their delicate beauty still makes me smile.
Not long ago I took a course on mindfulness meditation. One of the early on practises we were given was designed to bring ones focus to the moment without really having to work at it, or at least that's what I think it was intended to do. We were asked to think of something we could notice but not be actively looking for. I opted for birch trees and since then I still notice them. Whether walking or driving I don't look for them, but so very often just see them and it stills my mind and makes me smile.
When I was on my road trip to Nova Scotia I really got into noticing all the landscape that surrounded me. And that has continued since. Whether I am on a long drive or just running errands in the neighborhood I often slow down or pull over to truly see the beauty of a field, a flower, a tree, the sky.
Since that really severe wind and weather of this past winter, I keep seeing more and more trees bent and broken. Some are just snapped off, some are torn from the ground with roots ripped out. Some seem to be bent in half like a pipe cleaner. They seem to be everywhere. The clean up being done leaves stacks and stacks of branches and trunks along the side of roads, is really great. But that too saddens me as by the side of the road awaiting the chippers.
I am saddened by how many trees have been lost. I think this may be nature's way of culling the woods to make room for new growth, but worry that it is an indicator of some ecological problem we have caused.
My earliest memory if of the Chestnut tree is looking out of our front windows seeing it barely reaching the top of the first floor windows. By the time we moved it had grown so that it was taller than the 2nd floor windows and was reaching towards the 3rd floor.
It had large leaves arranged in groupings of seven. Each spring it had delicate white flowers that grew into chestnuts which were great fun to collect and play with. The branches and leaves hung gracefully and danced gaily in the wind. At our school, PS 19, we were required to memorize and recite Joyce Kilmer's poem, Trees. I still see that beautiful chestnut tree in my mind's eye whenever I think of lines from that poem.
(By way of clarification, if you are from the New York State you will know this, but other may not, to New Yorkers anyplace and all places in state north of New York City and lower Westchester county are "up-state". So, even though Shrub Oak, where we moved, is only about 45 miles north of NYC, it was and is considered "up-state".)
When we moved "up-state", to Shrub Oak, a major point of debate and compromise with the builder of our house was to not remove the trees that were on the property, but to work around and preserve them. This left us with a row of tulip trees along the front road. In the back road there were 2 clusters of large weeping willows and centrally placed in the back yard was a large and stately elm.
As with the Chestnut tree in Yonkers these were tended and cared for and, except for the elm grew and flourished. The elm, like so many, succumbed to Dutch Elm Disease and eventually had to be cut down. That was a very sad, sad day. The tree had a raised terrace of grass surrounding which was braced with a stone wall my Dad had built. There was a flower bed in front of the stone wall that had assorted bulbs and was in continuous bloom from early spring to fall. It was so pretty to see, so nice to sit under and our dog loved running in circles around it, even when she wasn't being chased!
When we moved to Shrub Oak it was very rural with lots of undeveloped land and lots of woods and fields to explore.
Many hours were spent with my parents or friends walking and roaming in the woods, playing all sorts of imaginary games and enjoying the many and varied trees. Birch trees became my favorite. I love the small clusters that they grow in, their delicate white bark, their graceful trunks. Their delicate beauty still makes me smile.
Not long ago I took a course on mindfulness meditation. One of the early on practises we were given was designed to bring ones focus to the moment without really having to work at it, or at least that's what I think it was intended to do. We were asked to think of something we could notice but not be actively looking for. I opted for birch trees and since then I still notice them. Whether walking or driving I don't look for them, but so very often just see them and it stills my mind and makes me smile.
When I was on my road trip to Nova Scotia I really got into noticing all the landscape that surrounded me. And that has continued since. Whether I am on a long drive or just running errands in the neighborhood I often slow down or pull over to truly see the beauty of a field, a flower, a tree, the sky.
Since that really severe wind and weather of this past winter, I keep seeing more and more trees bent and broken. Some are just snapped off, some are torn from the ground with roots ripped out. Some seem to be bent in half like a pipe cleaner. They seem to be everywhere. The clean up being done leaves stacks and stacks of branches and trunks along the side of roads, is really great. But that too saddens me as by the side of the road awaiting the chippers.
I am saddened by how many trees have been lost. I think this may be nature's way of culling the woods to make room for new growth, but worry that it is an indicator of some ecological problem we have caused.
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 earth’s sweet 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.
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