This short memoir is a homage to the trees that I have touched and that have sustained me.
Download to your Kindle (eBook)
Download from Smashwords (eBook)
This short memoir is a homage to the trees that I have touched and that have sustained me. Please don’t call me a tree hugger, though. Yes, I have hugged trees, but it was for my sake, not theirs, and that makes all the difference. I love trees in the way that Pan troglodytes loves trees, for we have lived in them and they have sustained us. For my part, I have also cut them down, burned their logs to stay warm in winter and created things from their wood. Indeed, trees have truly sustained me.
The house must be over a hundred years old, judging by the slate roof and its immensity. They don’t build big houses like that anymore. The eastern white pine tree planted as an ornament beside the house an age ago now towers over the roof; the house’s gutter only comes halfway up the big tree. It seems the tree had an affinity for the house, literally, for as it grew upward it also leaned towards the house so that its top now covered more roof than yard below. Now in ill health, the tree poses a danger to the same house that had protected it in its youth. The two young men with ropes, saws and a truck are planning something as they walk around the massive trunk. That’s my brother and me. Are we being cautious?