My Town Monday: So Long Old Friend
The old maple sat in front of this old house as long as the house has stood. We think it’s somewhere between 1830 and 1840. She spread her canopy of green in hot summer days, shading this old house. Seeds helicoptered down, covering the walkway; and young maples surprised us when they sprouted in unusual places. Each fall, she’d shed her leaves; leaves that had started out as that bright, fresh young green of early spring, maturing into the deep green of late summer, and finishing as brilliant as they had started, but this time in red and gold. The front walk and garden were blanketed in browns, gold and reds as the leaves completed their yearly cycle.
The sugar maple had seen a lot in her long life: floods and droughts, high winds and thunderstorms, ice and snow, and she wore the battle scars. A strong cable supported a couple of large limbs that were located over the house. We knew she was old, and saw changes that kind of made us think she was winding down. Then Hurricane Ike roared into town, bringing torrential rains and high winds, taking its toll on the old tree. A large crack appeared in the side, pushing a section of the tree out from the trunk, as if the winds had twisted her like a matchstick.
There really was no choice. The tree, with 2 large limbs perched above the house, was dangerous and had to come down.
Rich is a man who thinks about trees. He methodically plans each move, each cut, as he takes down a tree, one section at a time. Climbing the tree, using heavy rope and a chain saw, Rich took his time as he brought our old friend to the ground.
A neighbor wandered across the road to watch; Grandpa came through the woods and over the stream to witness this change.
It took two days to take down what nature had nourished for 175 years. Friends who are wood turners took 2 truck loads of wood; and another who heats with wood took more. There are still parts of the trunk, 38 inches in diameter, sitting in front of this old house. We’re not ready to let it all go yet.
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Mary said,
November 17, 2008 @ 1:09 am
What a beautiful post about a wonderful tree.
liz davidson said,
November 17, 2008 @ 4:32 am
That is one spectacular tree!!!
David said,
November 17, 2008 @ 9:12 am
Another post that hits close to home. First, that is a wonderful pic of a grand tree. Second, my father who has since passed planted a lot of trees on our property that are now thirty and forty years old. There’s nothing better for me than to sit on the front porch and admire God’s nature and reminisce about my Dad. I would like to think the trees will be around for a hundred years like yours. Great post. Thanks.
Amy said,
November 17, 2008 @ 9:18 am
I love big beautiful old trees.
Patti Abbott said,
November 17, 2008 @ 9:34 am
Trees can be so much a part of our lives.
Clare2e said,
November 17, 2008 @ 11:39 am
Great post on a subject that can be sad. We have a weeping cherry out front that’s getting quite old. The pruner says we have to be prepared for losing it. And when we bought this house, we inherited a truly gigundous, 4-foot diameter stump and all its raised roots in the sideyard. According to the experts, it’s gradually returning to nature as it should. It sprouts lots of different funky mushrooms after rains, and it’s covered with ivy and vinca that blooms periwinkle off and on all year. It’s become magical.
Larramie said,
November 17, 2008 @ 1:59 pm
Amazing.
Travis Erwin said,
November 17, 2008 @ 2:24 pm
A sad loss but sounds like she had a good run.
Jennifer Jilks said,
November 17, 2008 @ 5:47 pm
Great photos, great narrative. I did a blog post on trees. There comes a times when we all have to go. You make sure each day is a good one!
Terrie Farley Moran said,
November 17, 2008 @ 6:49 pm
trees are so important to our comfort and their visual beauty and majesty brings peace to the soul.
terrie
Chris said,
November 17, 2008 @ 8:41 pm
Hi Skilled Hands,
A friend of mine laughingly told me that blog posts are meant to be short so that people can view them between tasks at work. I am incapable of short, beyond my own height, and find brevity a terror.
Your post is short but not brief. You took us to: the meaning of the tree; the foreshadowing of the end; the events of its doom; and the process of its removal, including its effects on the community in likely as many words. You gave us all that in, likely, as many words as I need to write a thank you note to you.
Wow. Well done.
I especially liked the photo of the older gentleman regarding the tree. You could imagine the reminiscences percolating away.
That picture, and your description of the tree have me considering mortality, the cycle of life, and the transient nature of what we leave behind.
I really enjoyed your post; for me it is excellent. Thank you very much for an object lesson in how a meaningful post does not need to be long.
Best regards,
Chris
Linda / Lyndi said,
November 17, 2008 @ 8:51 pm
Oh, what a shame. I love maple trees and what a noble specimen your old friend was.
Linda
Cathy said,
November 18, 2008 @ 9:13 am
It is amazing, isn’t it, to think what that tree “saw” in its years. Sad for it to go, but as you say, necessary.
fromskilledhands said,
November 18, 2008 @ 9:21 am
Thank you all for your kind words. I look outside and see sky instead of her stately branches. Sigh…
Cat B said,
November 18, 2008 @ 1:06 pm
So nice that you appreciated the moment and life of that grand tree! Thanks, Debra!
gerry rosser said,
November 20, 2008 @ 9:08 am
There’s something about old trees . . .
Your tree was born before me, before my parents, before my grandparents, before the Civil War. There are trees, I hear, born before Jesus Christ.
And what have we done in that time to make the world a better place, a place of peace?
Mary Witzl said,
November 21, 2008 @ 8:18 am
This makes me feel so wistful! We have no autumn to speak of here — not like we did back in Scotland. I would give a lot to be able to see the sort of fiery fall colors you describe here.
Rebecca said,
November 21, 2008 @ 9:57 am
Oh that’s so sad, I hate to see an old tree come down. We’ve had to take an old one down, too, after it died. My neighbors, however, seem to love cutting down trees that are in their prime of life.
Lori said,
November 28, 2008 @ 9:27 am
makes me so sad whenever we lose a tree. love the picture of Grandpa watching.