In 1994, I ran a marathon.
And I remember thinking at the
time that the world was divided into two kinds of people. And I had just crossed the line.
Well today, I planted a tree.
Four trees actually. A big red maple. A medium pink dogwood. Two tiny oaks.
I still think the world is divided between two kinds of people. Only different kinds.
I'm ashamed and regretful that it's taken me 40 years to cross this line.
When you plant a tree you plant a dream.
You dream the future.
And the present.
And the past.
As I look at my red maple I wonder how it's young branches will ever support the weight of my children's children.
I've wanted a red maple ever since I was a girl and would walk by a magnificent red maple on my way to elementary school.
Today I got my wish.
I chose a spot for my red maple in the front yard. You have to walk right past it to get to the front door.
Year after year, it will stand sentry for us.
It will bear witness as joys -- and sorrows -- cross the threshold of this house.
I put the dogwood in the back yard -- just outside the dining room window.
I wonder if it will bloom in time for Easter this year.
Will the oaks -- with trunks no thicker than pencils -- survive to reach the towering heights of the other oaks in our neighborhood?
These four trees were a present to myself for my 40th birthday.
That's why I claim them so possessively.
But I know they're not truly mine.
If I'm lucky, they'll outlive me.
If I'm really lucky, maybe that won't happen for a while.
:-)
They've given me such joy today.
I can't remember a time when something so simple has give me such joy.
:-)
Mary
I totally get what you are saying. I put in some trees this year and some of the same thoughts have crossed my mind. I bet the Red Maple will add a gorgeous display to the front yard.
Posted by Geetha V. on November 12, 2007 at 02:34 PM PST #
Hi Mary, what an extremely happy-feeling blog-post :-) - please also at some point let your children plant their own small trees, and let them watch them grow.
25 years ago, I and the 3 other grandchildren of my grandmother each planted a tiny tree in her garden. And I can remember the joy with which we saw them grow during our childhood, where we spend a lot of time in the summers in her garden.
And although today we are seldom there all 4 of us at the same time, I still think the trees are special, compared to the other trees in my grandmothers garden - and they make me think of both my grandmother, my brother and my cousins and our happy childhood summers in that garden.
And yes, I can still remember which of the 4 trees are "mine" (and today they are huge :-), but not in any way old.
Posted by Morten Andersen on November 15, 2007 at 02:05 PM PST #
in "the clock of the long now" danny hillis talks about churches in the UK that have single, huge oak trees for main roof beams. and when the church was built, the rector planted new oak trees, knowing that in 100 years or so, when the oak tree had reached maturity, the roof beam would need to be replaced. and so future generations of rectors would have the same responsibility, to plant new trees as soon as the old ones were taken for sustainability of the church. any community -- church, little league, facebook group -- is sustained by those who remember to plant the trees.
Posted by hal stern on November 16, 2007 at 10:46 AM PST #