Trees are my sanctuary
“The Favorite” – Grandfather and Grandson – “Ο Αγαπημένος του Παππού” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
As a young child I helped my grandfather, “Pup, “
peel pulp to help him clear the land to farm.
A lumberjack, he fed his family and taught me the secrets of the woods.
We would walk with a bucket ( which held our lunch) on a pole to the tree that would give its life, shed its skin and build a home.
I was restless. I wanted to get at the chopping and get home to play with the cat.
Grandfather was not.
He wanted to take his time to find the right tree, to talk to it a while.
He wanted the tree to know how it would be used.
How it would shelter the new family.
(His son was going to live down the hill on his land…across the buck-board lane from the church.)
When he was ready, Grandfather would pull on his nose and say “Now git.” to ensure the children were out-of-the-way.
That was the best part of the day.
Watching Grandfather work.
Watching the bits of clouds that showed above the cathedral of trees.
Watching the butterflies.
Watching the deer.
Smelling the forest.
Sitting on the moss.
Wondering why the ants were always in a hurry.
After, when the tree had fallen to earth…and the limbs cut off…my work began.
I would take off the bark.
Honestly, I do not recall how I managed to do that.
To lift the bark and not mark up the tree
who would be pristine without blemish
for the new home for my Uncle and his family.
I do remember the smells of the pitch on my hands.
How the pitch made my cheese and homemade bread sandwich taste
better than any served at the table.
(Now that was going some.
Grandmother, “Nanna” had the very best cooking in all of King’s Clear, New Brunswick.)
How Grandfather would laugh at how hard I would work all week for that King George the V big penny.
Jump ahead 60 years.
I thank the trees for all the paper products that provide creature comforts to a body that refuses to age.
In contemplation, I was focusing on the trees.
I think if Grandfather had told a tree how it would be used today,
I think trees would refuse to fall.
Let us be mindful of the beauty, the benefits and the building of our lives that trees were meant to be.
I thank you trees…and Grandfather….for helping me to be aware that I can build a temple out of the lumber of my life…not a tavern.
(with thanks to Edna St. Vincent Milay for her poem….How do I love thee…)
Thank you to the trees in my yard. The large pine, the juniper and apple….and oh the lilacs.
Thank you Creator of All, Mahanta, for this day, its blessings and especially the trees.
- Go where the trees go (fizzyfiiz.wordpress.com)
- Teaching Kids about Tree Bark (thegreenery.ca)
- Legacy (starscrutiny.wordpress.com)
- Tree Beauty (onemindmanydetours.wordpress.com)