In the Land of Tall Trees

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Young longleaf seedlings underneath the dead landmark tree

 

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

Kilmer said it.

It’s hard to be a tree.

I’ve always seen God’s fingerprints on trees.

The intimate life cycle between the animal world and botanical.

Trees take in carbon dioxide and emit oxygen.

Just the opposite of the zoological world.

Wow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tree on the cover of  storms, lightning, and chain saws for close to a century.

When I visited it recently, I was shocked at its demise.

I compared the two photos.  The longleaf pine in majesty in 2005. (I took this photo after Hurricane Rita).

As sad as I am about this landmark tree’s death, I’m encouraged by the rapid growth around it.  Look at the difference in ten years.

That tall tree that survived the clearcuts of the twentieth century is leaving children, grandchildren, and nephews/nieces behind.

Young longleaf pines from its seed cones.  Loblolly and slash pine planted in its shadow.

The king is dead. Long live the king.

 

 

“TREES” by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is presst
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.