Magnificent Trees

With each passing year I become more aware of the language of trees.

My parents ventured into the woods and dug up three sapling beech trees.  The year may have been 1957.  One was planted to the left of the house, one to the right.  The third was planted in front of the house, half-way between the house and the road to give it plenty of room to spread it’s limbs.  The tree and I were exactly the same height at the time of planting.  My parents told me that eventually the limbs of the trees would touch.  I thought that impossible.  “How old is my tree?” I asked.  “I will be able to tell you when it turns fifty,” my mother answered.  “It takes fifty years of growing to produce beechnuts.”  Decades later my mother handed me a beechnut. “Now we know how old she is.”  Never having to fight for sunlight, the tree grew majestic, the limbs massive and far-reaching, touching the branches of its sibling on the far side of the house.

More to come …

The Matriarch - the Carter Family Beech Tree
The Matriarch – the Carter Family Beech Tree, Martinsville, New Jersey