Corona Letters #52 - Sunday Musings

 

I've written a lot about my garden and my penchant for planting trees.   Despite this "hobby" of mine, I had never, ever read the above quote until today.   I am not a religious person, so maybe they use this quote in church all the time.  How would I, and my agnostic ways, know this?  It's also a bit confusing because in my vast googling I have found that this quote is attributed to both the theologian Martin Luther and also to Martin Luther King Jr.   It seems that there is no real written or recorded proof that either of them said it so perhaps it belongs to another Martin Luther altogether, like the oft neglected sidekick of the famous Johnny Appleseed.

In any case, it's a good quote and I have to admit it kind of made my jaw drop when I read it in a book this morning ( "Anxious People" by Fredrik Backman for anyone wondering)

At the end of the day, I'm not sure why I plant trees but in the current political climate I feel this quote to my very "core".

If trees are left to their own devices and aren't in the direct path of anyone wanting to build a shopping mall, a boat or a parking lot, they can live for a very long time.   They will outlast us and possibly our children and grandchildren.   People might enjoy fruit from a tree that we planted that never knew us, or our family, and there is something beautifully poetic about that.   Through our action of planting a tree we can offer sustenance to those who come after us, and maybe that small action alone will keep the world from going completely to pieces.

Just yesterday I saw a picture on Instagram that moved me.   It was a picture of a family who was moving from their home and saying goodbye to a beloved tree.  The tree would not be able to move with them but would forever be remembered for her sturdy limbs that offered good climbing, her leafy branches that offered shade on her summer day, and her gorgeous white truck that was the backdrop of countless family photos, but that particular tree will be like a missing family member from this day forward.

There have been trees in my life that have been particularly memorable.

There was the tree in my grandparents front yard in New Jersey, my brother was tall enough to climb it but I was not.  Every time we visited I reached my fingertips to the lowest branch but they never quite reached.    They moved before I ever was tall enough to climb it.   I thought about that tree a lot as I grew up, always wondering "would I be tall enough?"  I never thought about the fact that the tree was growing just like I was.   I don't know if that tree is still there but I imagine that if it is it might have grown a bit over the past 50 years.   The first branch might still be too tall for me to reach. However, at 53 years old, I might be happier sitting at its base than trying to climb it anyway.   The tree and I would have a lot of catching up to do.

There was the tree that abutted the road in our second house.  My brother taught me to shimmy up it's trunk so that our weight would make the young tree bend over towards the street and when we got close to the top, and we were mere inches from the road we would jump off and the tree would "sproing!" back.   I never thought about what a dangerous game this was and all the potential things that could have gone wrong (think of a five year old girl in a makeshift trebuchet).   Again, I don't imagine that 50 years later that tree "sproings" back much anymore, but then again, neither do I.

The third house we lived in had a tree in the back that was technically in our grouchy neighbor's yard(we called her "nature lady" although that might have been a misnomer).  It was a fantastic climbing tree though and we always kept to the branches that went over our property.   The neighbor was not fond of us or the other neighborhood urchins that climbed this tree and one day, while we were at school she cut down ALL the branches that went over our property and thus made it impossible to climb.    I was absolutely furious and wanted to sue her with all the money I had in my piggy bank.   My father had to have a long talk with me about how she was indeed a mean lady, but it was her tree, and she had every right to do what she did.    Did we have every right to egg and TP her house every halloween for the rest of our childhoods?   Who would do such a thing?  

I'm pretty sure none of these trees was planted with me in mind, but someone planted them anyway.   Perhaps in was another homeowner, or the contractor who built the house, or perhaps it was just another tree dropping a seed.   

Trees and people both grow.   People move on, trees roots just grow deeper.

And "even if I knew that the world would go to pieces tomorrow, I would still plant my apple tree."   Someone, even if it's not me, will enjoy it's fruit.

Do you have a favorite Tree story?  Please feel free to share!