Lisa Beth

No, I’m not a tree-hugger… but recently I found out that several trees from my Grandma’s farm property are being cut down, and I was surprised by how devastated I was at this news. I was not prepared for the wave of sadness that engulfed me when I found out. Some may feel that it is over-dramatic, but I honestly feel like something I dearly love is being killed… or has died. I realize that cutting down old trees is one of the necessities of life to avoid dead limbs falling on homes and causing damage. I also realize that it is easier for my Grandmother to keep up with the yard work when she doesn’t have to worry about cleaning up after all that these trees shed in the form of pine cones, leaves, branches, nuts, etc.

But these trees–particularly this one maple (pictured above) is a backdrop to tall the memories of my childhood days spent at my Grandma and Grandpa Corby’s. I can’t picture their house without it, generously shading her whole front yard. I can’t imagine going back to visit and not seeing this beautiful tree that held the wooden swing I would swing on for hours, overlooking the farm and the valley below. I loved swinging really high, and then jumping off the swing and “flying” through the air to land at the bottom of the hill the tree was planted on. That moment of weightlessness when you are suspended in the air for that exhilarating split second.

You know, come to think of it, I’ve always been attached to trees. And as I reach further into my memory, I can recall times when my Grandparents would have to cut down their fruit trees, and even as a little girl, I would feel sad. I remember these 2 trees at my parents house that grew together, their trunks literally intertwined like a twisted pretzel rod. They were too close to the house, and had begun to show signs of rotting, so my dad had to cut them down. Again, I was very sad. I don’t know if it’s normal for little kids to get upset about something like that, but I definitely did. I think I always kept these thoughts to myself though, because I knew it was probably silly to get so attached to a tree

I thought maybe I was the only one who felt this sentimental about trees until I had a conversation with a friend the other night and she shared that she also had a favorite tree, and that she even wrote a song about it as a little girl. It was a very sad day for her when they moved and she had to leave this tree behind. I discussed with this friend how I could handle the loss of this tree a lot better if it’s death was out of our hands. You know, if lightning struck it or something. But no. This healthy beautiful vibrant tree’s life is being cut short for the sake of convenience. Those trees have earned all their lines! What has it ever done to us but shade us under it’s leafy canopy… and hold our rope swings… and give us a beautiful thing to look at. (ok, aside from the massive amounts of leaves it sheds each year… but even those are fun to rake into a pile and jump in!!)

The other thing is, it’s not like I’m attached to every tree. Growing up, my dad heated our house with a wood-burning stove, and every spring we would go into our woods and chop several trees up for firewood. This never bothered me, because there was a whole FOREST of trees left. It’s those special trees…you know, the ones inside your yard that grow up with you that you get attached to.

So last Friday was the scheduled date of the mass tree cutting rampage and all day long, I would think about that glorious Maple, felled to the ground… I literally would cringe and have to get my mind on something else because I would feel SO upset just picturing the first chainsaw cut ripping its way through all those tree ring lines. I would picture the massive THUD as it came thundering down to the ground, the descent of death. Like a warrior who is stabbed and slowly falls to the earth.

Then I got a phone call from my mom. She said that my Grandma was admitted to the hospital because of stomach pains Friday and that she has gallstones and had to be admitted over night. I felt so bad that all day I was worried about a tree, and here my Grandma was in the hospital. Then my mom said that they had started to cut down 2 of the other trees, and they had made such a mess in the yard that they were going to wait to cut down the others, and that my dad was going to try YET AGAIN to try to convince my Grandma to keep the Maple. MY MAPLE WAS NOT KILLED YESTERDAY AFTER ALL!!! It lives another day!! Maybe my Grandma will see how bare the yard is with the other trees gone, and will have mercy and spare the Maple.

I was going to write a “plea for the tree” letter to my Grandma, but my mom gently reminded me that “People are way more important than trees” and if it meant upsetting my Grandma, it just wasn’t worth it. And you know what? She is right. I love my Grandma WAY more than that tree. And if that means I have to be quiet about my beloved tree, I will be.