What a delightful read, Safar - thank you for your curation and narration of these stories. Your note about photographing tree growth reminded me of the character in Richard Powers' "The Overstory," who photographed a particular (oak?) tree on his farm year on year for many decades, and the son who inherited the photographs. It's a powerful idea, this devotional project spanning human generations compared to one tree-lifetime.
Your mention of pruning made me think of Calvino's "The Baron in the Trees," which I just finished, thanks to the encouragement of a writer here on Substack (wish I could remember who). Here's a lovely passage from ch.13, with the Baron pruning trees to cultivate relationships with his neighbors and their trees, to everyone's benefit: "In other words, he was able to make love for his arboreal element become -- as happens with all true loves -- a pitiless and painful love. Which wounds and cuts back to enhance growth and give shape."
I believe it was a chestnut in 'The Overstory', but that could be faulty memory. I think Kate (Motley Stories) would love this idea of a single entity being photographed over generations.
It's a long time since I read 'The Baron in the Trees', but this series has me wanting to again - That is a lovely passage!
Thank you @sfiertz. Yes, we all love to see something again, and again through the ages. We had a tree at the bottom of the brae (small hill) in front of our family house, that had been lived in my generations. It was loved by all and had many a story to tell. Despite everything (including my grandmother hitting it when learning to drive) the tree lived a long time, until a major storm felled it. I kept a bit of the wood in my commonplace book, until it turned to dust.
My friend had a tree near her house that she loved. When she had to move from Massachusetts to California, I took a photo of the tree, from the same position, in each season. She loved the four framed photos in her new home so far away.
Beautiful! What a thoughtful gift to give. Now that it's seasonal, there's been several posts on alternative gifts and the ideas are buzzing! More for next season than this one, as gifts like the one you've just described take some planning and prep. Thanks for sharing Kate.
Lovely, Safar. The excerpts you chose from so many others make quite the forest. :-) I can’t decide which to single out, so I must like them all together. Thank you for the shout-outs!
I love that notion of trees as the "elders" of the forest. Many (probably most) of us live in an urban or suburban environment where our trees have to contend with concrete and pipes at their feet. Just outside our 100 year old home in Berkeley, California is a very old incense cedar. I'd estimate it to be about as old as the house and over 60 feet high.
These beautiful old trees are California natives and host a community of critters in their branches. Unfortunately it's in an urban environment where our lots are smaller than it is tall. To keep it healthy, and not take anyone out with a falling branch, we hire an arborist every few years. The crew not only trims out deadwood but has now cabled it at the top branches with a series of "spider cables" that allow the tree to move while branches support each other. It's quite a thing to behold. Trees are a responsibility, just as our elders are.
I can't say I have a tree as wonderful as your incense cedar sounds, but we have 30 year + oaks and are close enough to a public area to feel the responsibility of them too. The spider cables sound impressive, like a partial nature sculpture.
A lovely compilation Safar, and thanks so much for the mention!
I can add that I also gave thanks to "my" oak tree shortly after creating my consulting business by placing some tobacco at its base. I may have smudged it as well with sage, but I don't remember...
I remember you said you engaged in a little ritual of thanks. Did you see the link about gratitude and changes in brain chemistry? If you go to my notes tab, it's one of the most recent additions.
I'll go check that one out, thanks! As a practitioner of gratitude myself, I've directly witnessed the uplifting change that it's brought into my own life.
This is a wonderful newsletter edition and I heartily thank Lorraine Tilbury for telling me about it. What you wrote reminds me of the saying "Society grows great when old men plant trees under which shade they know they'll never sit." I was also reminded of my constant grief, over a decade ago, when we lived in Oklahoma at how the builders would bulldoze every tree and bit of topsoil to make parking lots, commercial shopping places and churches. Your post reminds me of my delightful discovery when we moved to the Pacific Northwest that the builders here will preserve the old trees on the sites!! Even in my neighborhood the placement of the houses accommodates the trees!!!
There'll be a lot of people here with you, Sue, understanding that grief. Sounds like a good move to Pacific Northwest (I believe we have another reader whose home is in that region). In Hiroshima too, of the trees that survived, rebuilding worked around them.
Your trees will be appearing in our community area/reasons for hope as soon as I get to update the page again. You should get a ping when it happens. Thank you for dropping by.
This is amazing, Safar! I absolutely LOVE how you wove a community together here through the magic of trees. This is one the best posts I've ever read. ❤️
Wow! Thanks Jenna! Couldn't have done it without you all. It's a wonderful process to go back through all the comments, finding a way to put them together anew and hold on to those tidbits that fuel further thought and discussion.
How beautiful you have made this gathering of words from kindred souls Safar, many of which I have read and reread already... together they seem like an anthem though. Thank you
I have seen so many trees I’ve loved come to their end of days since living on my hill, some through natural causes but more often than not for capital gain. Recently the sixty old oak trees that lined the left hand side of the lane at the bottom of the hill were felled, it took one man two weeks to eradicate every one. 6000 years of growth, if all the years of each are added together.
I was not alone in shedding tears of horror and sadness. We are a tiny community but we are joined tightly in mourning...
What a delightful read, Safar - thank you for your curation and narration of these stories. Your note about photographing tree growth reminded me of the character in Richard Powers' "The Overstory," who photographed a particular (oak?) tree on his farm year on year for many decades, and the son who inherited the photographs. It's a powerful idea, this devotional project spanning human generations compared to one tree-lifetime.
Your mention of pruning made me think of Calvino's "The Baron in the Trees," which I just finished, thanks to the encouragement of a writer here on Substack (wish I could remember who). Here's a lovely passage from ch.13, with the Baron pruning trees to cultivate relationships with his neighbors and their trees, to everyone's benefit: "In other words, he was able to make love for his arboreal element become -- as happens with all true loves -- a pitiless and painful love. Which wounds and cuts back to enhance growth and give shape."
Bravo to @Duane for his poem!
I believe it was a chestnut in 'The Overstory', but that could be faulty memory. I think Kate (Motley Stories) would love this idea of a single entity being photographed over generations.
It's a long time since I read 'The Baron in the Trees', but this series has me wanting to again - That is a lovely passage!
Thank you @sfiertz. Yes, we all love to see something again, and again through the ages. We had a tree at the bottom of the brae (small hill) in front of our family house, that had been lived in my generations. It was loved by all and had many a story to tell. Despite everything (including my grandmother hitting it when learning to drive) the tree lived a long time, until a major storm felled it. I kept a bit of the wood in my commonplace book, until it turned to dust.
Wow, I hope you managed to get some photographs so those stories are told beyond your daughter's generation.
Yes there are some old photographs.
Yes! Of course it was because the others all died of disease except that one made it.
Yes!! I'm going to have to read that one again now too!
My friend had a tree near her house that she loved. When she had to move from Massachusetts to California, I took a photo of the tree, from the same position, in each season. She loved the four framed photos in her new home so far away.
Beautiful! What a thoughtful gift to give. Now that it's seasonal, there's been several posts on alternative gifts and the ideas are buzzing! More for next season than this one, as gifts like the one you've just described take some planning and prep. Thanks for sharing Kate.
Thank you for the mention! What a lovely compilation - trees are wonderful and I loved all the different voices talking about them.
A pleasure, Kate!
Lovely, Safar. The excerpts you chose from so many others make quite the forest. :-) I can’t decide which to single out, so I must like them all together. Thank you for the shout-outs!
A pleasure, Tara. It was fun trying to put some order to them all. It does make you appreciate them all the more.
I love that notion of trees as the "elders" of the forest. Many (probably most) of us live in an urban or suburban environment where our trees have to contend with concrete and pipes at their feet. Just outside our 100 year old home in Berkeley, California is a very old incense cedar. I'd estimate it to be about as old as the house and over 60 feet high.
These beautiful old trees are California natives and host a community of critters in their branches. Unfortunately it's in an urban environment where our lots are smaller than it is tall. To keep it healthy, and not take anyone out with a falling branch, we hire an arborist every few years. The crew not only trims out deadwood but has now cabled it at the top branches with a series of "spider cables" that allow the tree to move while branches support each other. It's quite a thing to behold. Trees are a responsibility, just as our elders are.
Hi Barbara, welcome to The Fiertzeside :)
I can't say I have a tree as wonderful as your incense cedar sounds, but we have 30 year + oaks and are close enough to a public area to feel the responsibility of them too. The spider cables sound impressive, like a partial nature sculpture.
Thank you for sharing your story, Barbara.
How lovely, Safar.
You are truly a gem. Thank you for the mention and for your loving curation of all things tree.
It's been a pleasure. Thank you!
A lovely compilation Safar, and thanks so much for the mention!
I can add that I also gave thanks to "my" oak tree shortly after creating my consulting business by placing some tobacco at its base. I may have smudged it as well with sage, but I don't remember...
I remember you said you engaged in a little ritual of thanks. Did you see the link about gratitude and changes in brain chemistry? If you go to my notes tab, it's one of the most recent additions.
I'll go check that one out, thanks! As a practitioner of gratitude myself, I've directly witnessed the uplifting change that it's brought into my own life.
I subscribed to the author of the gratitude post, he had many fascinating things to read. Thanks again!
Super! Eugene's stack is quickly becoming a favourite.
This is a wonderful newsletter edition and I heartily thank Lorraine Tilbury for telling me about it. What you wrote reminds me of the saying "Society grows great when old men plant trees under which shade they know they'll never sit." I was also reminded of my constant grief, over a decade ago, when we lived in Oklahoma at how the builders would bulldoze every tree and bit of topsoil to make parking lots, commercial shopping places and churches. Your post reminds me of my delightful discovery when we moved to the Pacific Northwest that the builders here will preserve the old trees on the sites!! Even in my neighborhood the placement of the houses accommodates the trees!!!
There'll be a lot of people here with you, Sue, understanding that grief. Sounds like a good move to Pacific Northwest (I believe we have another reader whose home is in that region). In Hiroshima too, of the trees that survived, rebuilding worked around them.
Your trees will be appearing in our community area/reasons for hope as soon as I get to update the page again. You should get a ping when it happens. Thank you for dropping by.
Thank you so much for your kind reply! And I will be deeply honored if you share my portraits of trees! 🙏💚
Just lovely, Safar.
Thanks for the mention!
🌳 🌲 🌴
I owe you a post title! Cheers, John 🙂
This is amazing, Safar! I absolutely LOVE how you wove a community together here through the magic of trees. This is one the best posts I've ever read. ❤️
Wow! Thanks Jenna! Couldn't have done it without you all. It's a wonderful process to go back through all the comments, finding a way to put them together anew and hold on to those tidbits that fuel further thought and discussion.
How beautiful you have made this gathering of words from kindred souls Safar, many of which I have read and reread already... together they seem like an anthem though. Thank you
I have seen so many trees I’ve loved come to their end of days since living on my hill, some through natural causes but more often than not for capital gain. Recently the sixty old oak trees that lined the left hand side of the lane at the bottom of the hill were felled, it took one man two weeks to eradicate every one. 6000 years of growth, if all the years of each are added together.
I was not alone in shedding tears of horror and sadness. We are a tiny community but we are joined tightly in mourning...
It must have been heart-breaking, Susie. That perspective on their age combined and how quickly felled is stand-still shocking. Feeling it for you.