The Stillness of Trees

We can learn a lot from trees. Take note of their stillness, their strength, their nurturing of one another, their singularity, their connectedness, their beauty. They offer protection and a home for small birds and animals. Shade. Oxygen, our life’s blood. They ask for nothing back. They just are.

I have always felt a connection and affinity, with trees. It began, as so many things, with my mother. Growing up, we lived across the street from a beautiful park that used to be the estate of a prominent statesman. From the time I can remember we would walk there over the grounds and among the old growth trees. It’s one of my heart memories. My mother would suppose that certain trees were partners. One tall proud one, the father. A wider, spreading, embracing one, the mother. I find myself, even to this day, doing the same thing.

A lot has been written lately about spending time outside and the health benefits of doing so, forest bathing, etc. Books are numerous. Among them: The Three Day Effect by Florence Williams; The Overstory by Richard Powers; The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Hohlleben. This is not too surprising. It seems it took a while to realize it but finally people are coming full circle. Many ancient cultures believed trees housed spirit or had souls. It’s not hard to understand.

My eldest brother once planted a tree in the yard of our childhood home. It’s still there and flourishing. If I had one wish it would be this:  If you must cut down a tree for any reason, replace it. Plant another one. It’s not just a gift for you. It matters.