When I was young (as in much young-er), it never occurred to me that the vast "hand-managed" landscape that I call "my yard" would ever become a thing of constant change. Looking back at old pictures reminds me of how trees, plants and grasses are living, ever-evolving things! Now that I've "arrived" at the threshold of "age and wisdom", I find that hindsight clearly is more revealing and accurate than foresight! I had previously written an article titled: "Some Thoughts On Garden Planning," which dealt primarily with managing volume, size, and workloads in gardening. This article involves primarily trees and the "involuntary" or "natural" events that can affect them. Whether we are city or country dwellers, we are sometimes faced with tough decisions concerning them.
grannysgarden said:Growing up on a farm I know just how valuable a tree can be. Not only valued for its shade but for all the wildlife it harbors, the skinned shins from climbing gnarled trunks, the swing hanging from its biggest bough, dreams sent up to the clouds from a quilt pallet under its cool, deep shade and sometimes the fruits or nuts it seems to provide with no effort.What memories that brings back! I can vividly remember similar things you describe, especially the skinned up legs and knees! That is very poetic when you said, "dreams sent up to the clouds from a quilt pallet under its cool, deep shade and sometimes the fruits or nuts it seems to provide with no effort".
grannysgarden said:Even the old scrub oaks in the pasture gave shelter to sun weary cows on the hottest days. Who needs a calendar to tell the months or seasons when you have trees.I suspect they knew more about the calendar as well as what time it is (never mind Daylight Savings Time)!
grannysgarden said:As to the poem...... it is one of the first ones I remember from my early school days. Thank you for posting this article. smiles
vic said:I love your article, photo's and the poem - thank you!
I am a tree lover too. All trees! I walk the dogs up our little mountain each day and several years ago, the folks that own the property adjoining ours, had all their trees cut. While I never walked on their property, I enjoyed their trees everyday on my walks. I sobbed and cried when they had them all cut. It broke my heart. It's mostly all grown back now but all pine trees which is fine but I miss the hardwoods.
hampartsum said:Gardening is for me not so much a place where I grow what I have or want, but rather a place where my prayers in gratitude become intimately true. I feel particularly blessed when something happens right ( in view of so much that can and usually does go wrong) . I'm always amazed at our Lord's mercy! Trees come and go, so do we, ...perhaps one leaves for those who follow a fleeting reminder of having toiled to leave a better place than that we found when just started, regardless the size or growth stage of trees. Others will pick up and hopefully do a better job than myself and... continue praying....
Sharon said:Leon, what a wonderful article and one very close to my heart. As I read the comments, they grabbed my heart as well. There are so many of us spread across the country who all feel the same way about trees. From Bonnie to Vic and from Susie to Vickie and all in between, we've all lived and loved our trees in the same way.
I never do this, mention an article I wrote while admiring and reading one written by another. But Leon is such a good friend I don't think he'll mind. (It's my pleasure always! ) I wish there were a way to link articles to each other but I'll do it this way because the two articles need to go hand in hand.
This was written for ATP several years ago and it's not one of my usual Aunt Bett articles but one that I think Leon will like and will see the connection. When you have time, maybe you could read it and see how connected we all really are:
Thank you Leon, so very much, and as I said, all the comments climbed right into my heart as well.
foraygardengirl said:A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.
-- Greek proverb