I love trees. I’m not a tree hugger though I do hold hands now and then. Trees can be a useful crop, a renewable resource, and things of beauty. Vital lessons.
My favorite trees are too big to hug; they’re for leaning on. Take the old white pine that stood by the beloved Scout cabin where Kathy Gustafson now lives. Oh the life-shaping lessons that tree taught me! It’s gone now, lost to the autumn gale. It just missed Kathy’s home when it fell.
Then the witness tree, a very tall pine overlooking Loon Lake at the wooded site we built for camper overnights at Lake Ellen Camp. A man who hunted the area told me wherever they wandered, they could count on the witness tree to lead them home.
Jeanne Kuhns’ recent Facebook post reminded me of the king of trees, the sequoias of California. The President, largest of all, is the second-oldest living thing on earth. At 3,200 years, the President was a sprig of green when Gideon was battling the Midianites.
A National Geographic study revealed staggering vitals. The President, smitten by lightening again and again, grows at an accelerated pace year by year, mainly in girth. Girth aside, I’m glad to learn that old age need not diminish growth, and vitality.
At 93 it’s fair to say I’m on the edge of old, yet new ideas still captivate me; I read books of many kinds and love conversation on serious topics. The Hole News plods on; a considerable mystery.
Dave Rogotske’s maple sugar bush teaches me the best lesson of all: Life’s richest beauty waits for autumn.
Old Grandpa Lloyd