Friday, April 24, 2009

A day to celebrate trees. Happy Arbor Day



A lovely tree at the Lovestead.

This Scotch pine graces our front yard. My mother once said that it looks like two lovers embracing. I think she called it right.

Trees can be symbolic creatures. We have a few here at the Lovestead, which advertises to all who pass by that this is a tree farm and that it's associated with the Forest Stewardship program.

Many readers have heard countless times about our God tree aka Lodgepole Society standard-bearer. Well, this morning I went around and snapped a few quick photos of some others that remind us every day of the permanent nature trees can take on---especially with our memories.

I could feature more, but I'll save those for another Arbor Day.

I'm married to a forester, so trees are important, but they've always been important.

I remember a huge bull pine (Bill will correct me if I'm wrong) which stood out in the middle of the west pasture at our North Boyer farm. I loved to go out there and sit, watching cows, horses, birds, and feeling alone with my thoughts. That tree is long gone but not from my memory.

There was the grove of trees out in the north woods next to Boyer where I sat, as a five-year-old thief thumbing through the mail I stole daily for three weeks. Their fallen needles provided a nice cache for hiding my postal booty.
I don't know how many of the original trees still stand out in that spot, but with every drive by down the back road, I glance that way and remember my indiscretion/crime.

And, while we're in the old neighborhood, I still beam with pride that the trees I transplanted early in Bill and my marriage still stand---much much taller---at the site where we lived in our first home. All remnants of our past are gone from that site---now a subdivision for "affordable housing----but those trees. Bill often remarks that I broke all rules in transplanting those trees, but the trees knew what to do, and they have thrived.

I used to drive by some other trees of pride every morning while going to work at Sandpoint High School. Our SHS Class of 1965 raised the funds to plant those big spruce that run along the east lawn bordering Division Street at what's now Sandpoint Middle School. I believe that all but one have survived their transplant as young trees 44 years ago.

Joyce Kilmer said it all when he wrote that poem we had to memorize in Mrs. Morris' seventh-grade literature class, and I've rattled off a few of those same words several times since.

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. . . .

Happy Arbor Day.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Arbor Day is celebrated on the last Friday in April-that's today!
A little movie about the tradition here:Arbor Day

Sharon said...

Thanks for the explanation of the SMS trees. I had often wondered as I drove into and out of the parking lot how they came to be. They are gorgeous! I'm going to go plant a tree now!

Sharon said...

A white flowering dogwood. In my yard. Not at SMS!

NILove said...

Cool, Sharon. Bill will be proud of you.