Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky
Khalil Gibran
A Refection by Ginny Stiles.
I recently read a wonderful story about the old cherry tree in Washington DC that had been cut back so many times it was nothing but a stump..but it still bloomed. It soon gained the name “Stumpy”. When it was scheduled to be cut down, folks had their photo taken by it, drew pictures of it, left prayers on it and wrote stories about it.
It got me to thinking about the good bye we just said to our old birch tree at the summer cabin in July. You can say hello and good bye to a lot of things in this life and more so as you grow old. But even a tree can be a cause for a tearful memories and sweet good byes.
Because of the location of the tree-- smack dab in the middle of our cabin lakefront shore line— it has been in every family summer lakefront photo for probably 50 years. A very long time for a birch to survive. I’ve probably sketched it 20 times at various summers in my life.
It stood through wild storms and winter winds and heavy snow. Still that birch faithfully greeted us each spring with dappled shade and beautiful black and white patterned bark. Under that tree our grandchildren grew up, we picnicked under it, we napped under it, read under it, sketched under it, wept under it, dreamed under it.
Gradually however over the last 3-4 years the bark had begun to fall from it, branches began to slowly fall off into the lake and float away. Shelf fungus began to appear on the trunk and it became clear that it was nearing the end. We let it stand forlorn for a few summers not bearing to say goodbye. A shadow of it’s former self now.
Finally it was time to take it all down to make room for new trees… for new memories to be made. When I sit on the deck now…I remember its silhouette and the dappled shade it provided. Just as I remember all my friends and family that have gone home before me.
PS The day the tree came down was just an ordinary day. People were doing what people do…they were getting born, and falling in love, and making soup, and fighting breast cancer. They were climbing mountains and reading poetry, picking cherries and whitewater rafting. Only a few people in this world were aware that an old beloved birch tree was finished giving joy on a small lake in Wisconsin. But then nothing is ever really ordinary is it? It’s just hard to hold that thought.
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Here are a few images to share....
Last summer in July, the summer just before the tree came down I sketched some of the bark that had begun to peel off and drop down on the pier and deck. Another sign that the tree was saying good bye.
