I did something this week that I never thought I would. I called a nursery to buy a tree. Not just a little tree, but a semi-mature
tree. Unfortunately, the company I called was not in the office, so I have to
wait until next week to find out the verdict. I understand they are very
pricey, especially if they plant them for you.
So how did I get to this?
When I bought my house five years ago, part of the attraction
was that it had a fairly large, 1/3 acre yard and I envisioned a tropical
oasis, or at least, my little piece of country in the city. Imagine my horror
when I went to plant my first tree, to find out I live on a rock. Six inches
down is shale, solid and deep.
As a child, being an introvert living in the country with few people around, I spent a lot of time hanging out on the low flat limb of a gigantic oak tree at the back of our property, reading books, making leaf crowns and creating little acorn people. I have mentioned before; I was the youngest of five children and my parents were older, so I was, well, feral and spent most of my daylight hours in the woods, exploring and dreaming.
During the school year in my tiny country school, there were nine people in my class, and when the mean girls decided to not include me which was most of the time, I sat at the base of a one of the oak trees on the school grounds and read books. When you experience the behavior of mean girls from first grade all the way to seventh, you grow thick skin and become comfortable in your isolation.
Trees have been my anchor, my comfort in stressful times, so
is it surprising that when my son died two years ago, that I would need the
comfort of trees? I looked for a country home with no luck, so I am opting for
plan B, buying a semi-mature tree for my house in the HOA.
The next time you are near a mature tree, put your hand on
the trunk and close your eyes. Listen to the rustle of the leaves and the birds
and wildlife that make it home and think of the life and the history of
everything that the tree has endured to be here. Rain and drought, wind and
bitter cold, and yet it still stands strong. Hopefully, you will feel the same peace in your soul that this brings me.
Oh, my goodness. I feel like you wrote my growing-up story--except that our classes were bigger; consolidation, you know. I hope your tree is wonderful and that it grows happily where it's planted. And shares its peace with you. Wonderful post.
ReplyDeletethank you Liz! I wondered if my sanity would be questioned over the post and nearly deleted it. - Its hard to describe unless you've been there- so glad you can relate too- I'm in good company!
DeleteThe sound of breeze rustling cottonwood leaves is one of my favorite (We buy the male cottonwood so we don't have sneezing fits every time we go outside in summer). Like you, our house is on a rock. We have a lot of container plants. Surely you can find someone with a jackhammer and tree planting equipment to plant you one large tree. They add so much to your life. The backyard of oak trees is the reason we bought out former home. I wasn't wild about the house, but the view from the kitchen table was wonderful. Good luck!
ReplyDeleteThere is a tree farm directly across the road from me-they are booked until fall but can plant me a 3 inch diameter tree- guaranteed for 6 months for $1000 - That is pricey but I feel like that is a good investment for a bit of peace.
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