Trees. they are absolute proof, living proof, of the diversity God planned for everything . . . . Life appears in so many places we might not expect - and life appears in so many shapes and forms we may not have considered. Trees are among my favorites. I have a special tree friend up at our farm. Hes a Chinese Elm . . . Hes a volunteer. He just popped up at the far north end of our potatoes garden one year. He was barely three/four inches tall when I first met him. I decided right then and there to let him live and grow at the north end of the potatoes patch. We needed a shade tree in that area. I was very careful when I drove and rode our sit-down lawn mower, making sure he wasn’t cut down. And if someone else rode the sit down lawn mower to cut the grass, I always put a lawn chair over him so he wouldnt accidentally get cut down by the blades of the mower. In a few years he was tall enough to hold his own against most anything. I used to take my chair out there and set along side him and have my morning coffee and listen to the NPR news on a small but very good pocket FM radio. And the tree and I would chat. On very nice days I would set up shot beside and under the tree. We carried over the picnic table and benches . . . the tree became a gathering place for the rest of us. He grew so tall. A towering creature. His afternoon shade stretched clear across the lawn from the potato patch to my little office and study nestled in the cedar trees down a spell from there. The office is about a basketball court length away from Hank. I named him Hank. Its not a very stately name - and Hank is indeed stately - but it does reflect the wild and the rural in both of us. Hank and Fred, enjoying a soft summer morning together. Fred sipping coffee from his favorite mug, and Hank sucking up the bounteous moisture in the ground around him. Our land sits on two aqua fires, one on the top of the other. Hanks roots run wide and deep. He doesnt have to share any of the liquid nature with anyone but the grass and the potatoes patch. All the other trees, mulberry, pine, cedars and the like - are half a meadow away from him on all four sides. Its a great place to be a tree if you dont mind being loner. I always tell Hank it isnt so much that hes along - its more like hes the center of attention because there isnt much else for the trees surrounding the meadow to see besides him. And me, of course, when I join him and bring along a cup of coffee, a glass of ice water or a cold beer. Over the years Hank has been a most hospitable fellow. His branches and limbs and hollowed out places have provided the foundations for hundreds of homes for birds, caterpillar, cocoons, spider webs, climbing ants and dozens of other creatures and critters air bound or tree savvy. Living in a meadow, as he does, surrounded by lots of other trees, hes always protected from the high wind storms that hurry and crush their way across the Great Plains. The other trees provide a shelter belt, a wind break for him. I havent seen Hank in a long time. My health no longer permits me to make the trip from my home in Omaha to our farm in Brunswick. I miss him. I have a hunch he misses me as too. Im planning to visit as soon as I can - perhaps this summer. Here are a few photographs of other trees I’d like to know personally. Hank is the deciduous fella with the look we all know oh so well. The other guys are his cousins.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 15:33:10 +0000
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