Trees

I watched an interview with scientist Hope Jahren, the author of Lab Girl, on PBS. She mentioned that most of us remember a tree from childhood that was important to us.

It's true.

I remember a Catalpa tree in one of my suburban front yards growing up. As a nine-year old the tree was my horse, my escape, my sanctuary and my friend. I would climb and sit in a pretend saddle on a big horizontal branch and be comforted by its strength and the large leaf covering to hide me from my imaginary foes.

Many years later I happened to be driving by my childhood home, and I pulled the car over just to stare and remember 65-years earlier when I climbed and sat in that tree. The horizontal branch was still there, but it was so much bigger and higher off the ground. There is no way I could climb the tree today.

I took a picture of the house and the tree. I look at it often, still remembering my childhood Catalpa friend. Through my adult years, I've befriended many trees. I've hugged them and talked to them and explained why I had to cut them when it was necessary.

Humankind has a symbiotic relationship with trees. Our out-breath is their in-breath and vice-versa. Without them we might not exist.