Trees

Tree-hugger: an environmental campaigner (used in reference to the practice of embracing a tree in an attempt to prevent it from being felled). Okay, I might not actually go that far, but I will admit to a great affinity for trees. There were several during my childhood that brought me quite a bit of happiness for various reasons.

One of these was a giant sycamore tree that had been uprooted during a long-ago storm but had such an extensive root system that it continued to live, lying on its side with half of its roots up in the air. By the time I was old enough to explore, several branches were growing straight up from the trunk, as large as trees themselves. And, as it had originally been growing from a small bank, the trunk didn't touch the ground for many feet. It extended like a leafy bridge over a gentle dip in the landscape.

The easiest tree in the world to climb is a sycamore, especially one that is horizontal! I spent many happy hours seated at the base of this fallen giant, leaned up against the roots, daydreaming about many things. When I would get tired of just sitting, I would venture out on the trunk, balancing with my arms and carefully stepping around the limbs, until I came to the other side.

My childhood playmates, my nieces and nephews, and I also used that old tree as home base for many of our adventures. We would be pioneers, setting out in wagon trains to cross the prairie (our field), or orphans lost in the woods, making a snug dwelling underneath the trunk of that tree with its intact root system as one of the walls of our shelter. We could spend the entire day there, left to our own devices and our imagination.

I hate it that so many children today get bored without some kind of electronic device in their hands. I guess that goes for adults, too. Oh, for the good ole days!

Another tree that made an impression on my childhood was the giant mulberry in our yard. I know I have written a little about this tree before, so I won't repeat myself but just say that this past spring, the county decided to pave the road that ran by my old home place and the tree had to go. I will admit that I shed a few tears over this, for the tree itself and also the memories it represented. My children were also grieved over this development, as this old tree had been dear to them as well.

I was still in classes when the dark day came, but my sister was able to go out and take some pictures of the tree before they felled it, and also to bring home a few pieces of the tree for us to make something from them -- not sure yet what that will be.

And in typical government fashion, did the road get paved? No, it did not. All that was accomplished was that a few fence rows were dozed out and this tree brought down. It was still strong and healthy and not a bit rotten. If you remember, this tree had been split by lightning long ago and had two main trunks that leaned in opposite directions. I guess if I was a true tree-hugger, I would have wrapped myself around one of those trunks and protested! Maybe I should have tried. Anyway, both of these wonderful trees are now gone. The sycamore finally died, I guess due to not having quite enough roots in the ground to sustain life even though it lived many years that way.

Not every tree that I remember was a giant, however. There was one small tree, no more than six inches in diameter that also stands out in my memory. It was just a small sapling, growing on the bank of a very small pond behind the barn. I don't even know what kind of tree it was. It might still be there; someday I will go look. One spring day, before the leaves were very big and after a brief storm, my mom sent us kids out to play with bottles of "bubble stuff" as we called it. We headed up the holler blowing bubbles and, as we reached the old pond, we found that our bubbles would stick to the damp trunk and branches of this tree. We blew hundreds of bubbles and covered that little tree with them! It was a pretty sight, and I wish we had been able to get a picture of it, but alas, no electronic devices were in our hands back then! (I guess they are a curse and a blessing, depending on the circumstances.) Anyway, we had a great time on that warm, damp spring day, and I have written a children's book about the experience, called, of course, "The Bubble Tree." It's not published yet. Gonna work on that now that I am done with school.

We only have a few trees on the edge of our property now, and I am wanting to plant more, closer to the house. My husband isn't crazy about that idea because he likes to mow in a straight line and wants an unobstructed yard! Not sure who is going to win this argument, but just FYI, I have three small trees in buckets on my front porch, ready to go. They will be planted this summer. I will just remind the hubs that straight lines are boring. I hope you have some really nice trees in your lives and, if not, plant a few. I think, maybe, there is a little tree-hugger in us all. Until next time, wishing you all some very "leafy" memories!

Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.