I went huckleberry hunting with the girls last night, the forest smelled like some sort of miraculous, freshly baked berry pie, zingy and stain-your-fingers-magenta. Just gorgeous. Our berry picking area was just down a slope from what is believed to be the biggest tree in this forest district so we went to visit that old grandfather and he was a real beauty.
For a tree in the interior West, this is a really huge, ancient ponderosa pine. It took three of us to wrap the trunk in a complete hug. The bark smelled of warmth, sugar honey and caramelized sunshine. I couldn’t help but wonder how many forest fires this tree has survived. How often it has nearly been struck by lightning, or struck at all, over the centuries. I wondered how many birds have built nests in its branches, how many mountain lions have scampered up its trunk, how many people have leaned up against it in a contemplative moment, how many woodpeckers have taken bugs from its trunk, how deep its roots sink into the earth…I wondered a lot about this beautiful grandfather tree. I wondered how many generations of trees it has sired and if they know each other by name and sing a family anthem when the wind blows through their glimmering needles, and let’s take a moment to be honest here, no tree glimmers like a ponderosa pine in the sunshine.
I love ponderosa pine forests. They might be one of my very favorite forests of all. They are peaceful, spacious and kind. The combination of reddish trunks with merry green crowns is chroma-textural and striking. A ponderosa pine forest is a bright place to be. The coastal forests always seem so dark and dripping to me and feel almost oppressive when I am in them — like the dense, black spruce forests of interior Alaska — there’s so much darkness wrapped around the green. But a ponderosa pine canopy does such a magnificent job of filtering light and holding light. The forest floor beneath the trees is always dry, warm, and spicy, especially on hot summer days.
In the summer, when I step under a pondi and simply breathe deep, I feel filled up with sun cinnamon, I speak in waves of light, my heartbeat is refraction.
I’ve been thinking about trees for a couple of weeks now and have come to realize that there’s nothing else on earth that lives a life of service quite like a tree. They spend their entire lives serving the forest they belong to, the dirt between their roots, the air and wind on our planet, the birds in their branches and the animals that populate the ground beneath them. We, as humans, lean up against them when we read our books that are printed on tree flesh, we climb them to get better views or to reach bird nests or to rescue our cats, we sigh with relief when we step inside the shade of their canopies on the hottest days, we nap beneath them, we plant them in thick rows to protect the topsoil of our fields, we cut them down and burn them to keep ourselves warm, we harvest them and build our homes, our cities, our barns out of them, we craft our rocking chairs out of their bodies (canoes, fences, cradles, kitchen tables…), we print our money on the backs of trees, we make maps out of trees so we know where we’re going, we write love letters with trees, we blow our noses with trees, make grocery lists with trees, we pour the life blood of trees on our pancakes and cry out “YUM!” with every forkload of waffle that makes it to our mouth. Our lives are so deeply entwined with trees, in every way, every moment of the day.
Trees live their lives in service to us. And in their death, they serve us still.
Yesterday evening, when I hugged the grandfather ponderosa pine, pressed my nose against his jigsaw bark and breathed deep his sweet summer scent, I felt a flood of gratitude for how hard this tree has worked to stand steady over the centuries, for all the trees he has sired, for the beauty of the mountains around me, for the strength and girth of his tree trunk and for the beauty of the history I could see written across the plates of his skin. And I thanked God for all the trees. All the beautiful trees.
I believe this ent hugged you back. I do.
A touching tribute to the magnificence that is Tree. Thank you for this.
Love to you, lady.
I FELT HUGGED!
🙂
That tree was pure, stalwart, tender loving kindness.
I could feel it.
sooo you know, of course, that this reminded me of the classic:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TZCP6OqRlE
I adore trees, and how they fill our lungs.. and how even our lungs bear their image when held up to the ‘light’!
xo
Mel
needle and nest
Of course!
Shel had it right:)
Beautiful! Do I sense a tree series coming on? 😉
Heck if I know!
I’m a rambling woman…a tree series might come tomorrow, come in spurts, or come to me in a year from now. We’ll have to wait and see!
Ancient Souls, they are… Oh, if only everyone carried the same acknowledgement, gratitude, and kinship for them (nature!)
Magnificently written, Jillian.
Lulu.
You kind thing.
There’s a tree in YOU.
XX
Wow, that first photo is stunning!
Thanks chickie!
Beautiful golden hour.
🙂 and yes, made me think of the giving tree, lovely
xx
Oh so lovely. I miss those pondie forests. Occasionally when the sun warms the needles under a white spruce forest I get the shadow of that honey smell, and it gives me a deep homesick feeling for the rockies. Thanks you trees and thank you Jillian for bring me into such a beautiful scene.
My pleasure!
you cut your hairs!
That’s not me!
That’s my doppelganger!
I haven’t read any blogs in weeks, and on a whim, I stopped by today during a brief respite at home. Your post is timely, for me.
My family and I are enveloped in this year’s Sundance ceremony for our community here is South Dakota, the Wase Wakpa. A cottonwood tree is the center of the ceremony, both literally and figuratively, and I have been having similar thoughts about this tree. Visions, if you will, of this tree as a channel for all of the prayers being whispered to it throughout the week. My husband is staked to the tree, and two of my daughters are out there dancing, as well. When I am under the arbor, in the circle around the dancers and the tree, I’ve been holding my 2-year old tight, dancing, and envisioning the people’s prayers carried on the smoke of the pipe up through the branches, where the tree helps deliver them to the Creator.
Mitakuye oyasin – we are all related.
Susan,
Sounds like an incredible ceremony — rich with meaning! You must be of the Sioux Nation?
Mitakuye oyasin.
XX
Oh, Plume…
Yes. So perfectly lovely! I think Tolkien, and Brandi, had it right. Some trees really do hug back, and speak out loud, to those who listen. Hoom!
“Those were broad days! Time was when I could walk and sing all day and hear no more than the echo of my own voice in the hollow hills. The woods were like the woods of Lothlorien, only thicker, younger, stronger. And the smell of the air!
I used to spend a week just breathing.”
(Treebeard, The Two Towers)
Hope you had a good huckleberry haul. Did you pick by hand? Or were you using one of these little guys? http://www.huckleberrypickers.com/ I find that you pick more berries with the rake, but that they require more cleaning later. Oh! Huckleberry pie. Huckleberry jam! Huckleberry sauce on vanilla ice cream! Nothing like summer berries in the Northwest. Nothing!
“…I used to spend a week just breathing.”
AHHHHH!!!!!
I cannot even imagine.
We didn’t really haul hucks but ate what we picked instead. Our bowls were empty when we made it back to our cars. 🙂 We did pick by hand. But that little rake looks very handy!
Hope you’re having a gorgeous summer, Bethie.
X
Man, I knew you were a pondi lover! That green of the needles against the reddest bark…nature knows her palette, yah? Your forest prose is so beautiful and profound. Thanks for putting a smile on me face!
My pleasure girl.
Ponderosa Pines FOREVER!
xx
when i read this post, when my senses snapped to attention and my mind was thrilled and challenged by each word so carefully chosen and placed, i thanked god for you. every beautiful bit of you.
xx
And I’m always so thankful you champion my writing the way you do. Thank you, my friend. X
Amen to that.
I’ve been thinking lately about the history of things, how far back the trail goes and how many people and living things are involved. When I have my tea in the morning I imagine the beautiful ladies in India picking the leaves for me in their brightly coloured saris, how they might laugh, tell stories, sing while they are working. Think of all the effort involved just in getting your tea to you, so you feel happy when you get up in the morning. Your words about the tree sum this up exactly. It has so many uses and we don’t even notice how many times a day we use something made from this beautiful living thing. Thank you for your gorgeous deep words and luminous photos.
Kerri!
What a beautiful path of gratitude you take every day when you make your cup of tea! Such full and thankful living. I’m going to try to do it more often, for everything I use in my life and experience in my life — try to acknowledge the paths and then be thankful for them.
X
i’m with you on this one.
TREE HUGGER!!! 🙂 x
This was truly beautiful! Have you read/watched “The Man Who Planted Trees”? I think you would love it…
I live on many acres of land, many of them wooded. There is nothing I enjoy more than being out among the trees, inhaling their earthy scents…I’ve been saddened by the toll the drought has been taking on them this summer. I hope that next year’s weather is kinder 🙂
I haven’t read or watched “The Man Who Planted Trees.”
I’ll look it up this week whilst on the interwebulars. Thanks for mentioning it!
Trees, especially old trees, have seen many dry years and many wet years. They’ll weather this drought fine and will bloom brighter, greener and taller in the years to come. Trees know how to live. They’ll be ok! But I, too, hope that next year is wetter.
Thanks for being here, Heather!
I love this!
🙂
i know what you mean about trees. i’ve been having a faithful love affair with them for years
😉
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Birnam_Oak
maybe you would like this…?
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tree-Wisdom-definitive-guidebook-folklore/dp/0722534086/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1344658352&sr=8-1
one of my favourites.
Little Cloud,
I would LOVE that book! Thank you for the link!
And as always, thank you for being here. XX
Fantastic tribute. I know exactly what you mean about different forests – growing up in the dark (Canadian) PNW rainforests and now living in mixed Carolinian forest land. I think you are right the pine forests are the most welcoming and comfortable.
As with a previous commenter, I was reminded of Tolkien and Treebeard (esp. since I just finished rereading LOTR). I do believe the trees communicate with each other!
Thank you, Valerie!
Gosh — I meant to re-read LOTR this summer but have been digging into so many other books and revisiting my favorite summer stories…I just haven’t had time! Perhaps this winter.
I think the trees communicate with each other too.
x
I have not been out West save a trip to Palm Springs and I would love to see the forests there. Our forests are beautiful in Virginia- and the gratitude you express for trees is very true and meaningful- thank you for writing this.
My pleasure!
I have heard the forests out East are utterly resplendent! I’d love to see them sometime. I have never been to the American East. I have been to the Canadian East where the forests are mostly stoutly boreal and I do dearly love a boreal forest, with all my heart.
X
“…sugar honey and caramelized sunshine”! Yes, exactly! I can smell it, too. (I hated being named after a tree as a kid. Now I really rather love it.)
I came upon this last night, you know, while ‘researching,’ and smiled wide. This was probably you when you were little…and now: http://www.etsy.com/listing/77932819
Hope you’re enjoying your wooded playground this lovely Sunday!
xxx
Ash, I’ve always thought your name beautiful!
As for that Etsy listing! LOOK AT HOW MUCH THAT TREE LIKES THAT HUG! 🙂
XX
Isn’t it just the loveliest thought to imagine that’s exactly how they feel!!! Wisha-wisha-wisha!
(Aw, thanks. It’s a name I had to grow into. I think it fits rather well, now.)
xxx
Fits perfectly.
PERFECTLY!
XX
FABULOUS writing there, girl.
Trees are the lungs of the earth…and a myriad other wondrous things.
Ah, Doro.
Miss you.
Hope all is well.
X
Rough sledding, but nothing I can’t ultimately handle. I so, so, so owe you a letter and WILL write. Meanwhile, I’m repeatedly delighted about the fact you got to Methow!
X
Oh beautifully written – you filled me up with a warm smile with this. They ARE magnificent. Thank you for the lovely reminder.