Gifts to the Future

April 20th, 2021

   A fellow commented on a profile I wrote about the majestic white oak that “maybe you’ll be able to enjoy a tree like the one in the photo when you’re 125 or so.”

I may never see my young purple beech look like this, but I’m happy with it now anyway.

   I hope I’m still planting daisies rather than pushing them up then, but assuming not, that over-used adage doesn’t discourage me from planting trees.

   One of my life aims is to leave my little corner of the Earth in better shape than when I found it.

   A sidebar to that is planting as many trees as possible to counter-balance the many more that get cut down every year.

Read George’s post on what trees he’s planted in his new yard so far

   Sure, it’s going to take decades for a baby oak to reach its mature glory. And sure, I’m unlikely to see that.

   But planting a tree is not just about me and about now. Trees are as much for the future (maybe more so) than the present.

   I’m thankful for the people who had the forethought to plant trees years ago that are now the mature specimens we all can admire, sit under, and enjoy in flower or fall foliage.

   When I plant a tree, I see it as returning the favor to this earlier generation so that my children and grandchildren’s generations can enjoy the benefits of my investment.

   That’s not to say we get nothing out of trees in the meantime.

   I rather enjoy the planting, both for the physical exercise and in picturing what that tree is going to look like in that spot as it grows over the years.

   I also like seeing the progress, watching these arboreal offspring change through the seasons while helping them take shape with a shortening snip here and limbing-up there.

   I’m sure plenty of birds, bees, butterflies, and beneficial insects make good use of my trees year in and year out, too. They don’t wait until the trees get big.

I appreciate trees even when they’re still little… like my American fringe tree in this picture from years past.

   It takes patience and the ability to appreciate the moment when it comes to trees. It’s not just about results or how much I can get out of a situation as soon as possible. Immediate paybacks rule too much else.

   You won’t find me telling the nursery staffer (as they often hear) that I’m planting only the fastest-growing species “because I want to see them amount to something in my lifetime.”

   That’s what leads to so many pears, poplars, and willows that break apart as teen-agers because their wood doesn’t have the denseness of a sturdy oak or beech.

   So I’m fine with the slow-growing stuff.

   I’m plowing ahead despite hitting the magic Medicare age this year.

   I may never get to see my ‘Wildfire’ black gum or purple beech at full size, but I’ll still enjoy them at whatever stage they are.

   My grandkids’ kids can sit under them long after I’m gone.