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Sunday, September 14, 2008
Everything Comes and Goes
Right now, we have four huge cottonwoods on our lot. They are old grandmothers and grandfathers - around 100 years old. In a few days, one of the beautiful giants will be cut down by the city. We will be spared the financial cost of this euthanasia, because this particular tree is right by the street. The city did give me the choice of whether to do it now or to wait, even though the tree doesn't have another ten years in him and he has been so chopped up he doesn't look very stylish anymore. The poor old tree has some bad health problems and it is right that we take him out of his misery. Still, it is almost like the death of a family member. I will miss him very, very much.
He's so big that I couldn't get him all in one photo without going down the street and including the whole neighborhood in the picture.
Here's his top:
Up close (Isn't he magnificent?):
And the yellow ribbon that says, "Here I am! I'm the one you're going to cut down!"
I did my best to measure the circumference of this tree today. It's around 12 1/2 feet around.
I love the way cottonwood leaves dance in the wind. I love the deeply grooved bark. I love how cottonwoods like to gather where there's a water source. I have had so much fun listening to baby northern flickers cheeping when their mom and dad brought food to the nest nestled within the big granddaddy trunk.
This tree has been the landmark that we mentioned so that people can find our home - just go to the house immediately past the cottonwood that sticks out into the street.
Keeping things in perspective, I know that there are people near the Gulf that wished they had a dry home right now - with or without a tree. There are people in the Middle East suffering losses so immense that I'm embarrassed to be talking about my tree.
But I'm still going to miss him...
He's so big that I couldn't get him all in one photo without going down the street and including the whole neighborhood in the picture.
Here's his top:
Up close (Isn't he magnificent?):
And the yellow ribbon that says, "Here I am! I'm the one you're going to cut down!"
I did my best to measure the circumference of this tree today. It's around 12 1/2 feet around.
I love the way cottonwood leaves dance in the wind. I love the deeply grooved bark. I love how cottonwoods like to gather where there's a water source. I have had so much fun listening to baby northern flickers cheeping when their mom and dad brought food to the nest nestled within the big granddaddy trunk.
This tree has been the landmark that we mentioned so that people can find our home - just go to the house immediately past the cottonwood that sticks out into the street.
Keeping things in perspective, I know that there are people near the Gulf that wished they had a dry home right now - with or without a tree. There are people in the Middle East suffering losses so immense that I'm embarrassed to be talking about my tree.
But I'm still going to miss him...
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posted by Carol at 9:06 AM
12 Comments:
I understand your sorrow, Carol. He is a magnificent being!
Thanks Nick.
What a majestic tree...
When they come to cut it down, would you be able to get them to let you have a piece that you might be able to get a woodturner to make into a bowl for you?
Just checked on the internet that you can in fact turn cottonwood and found this
http://home.comcast.net/~wskossack/boxes/nested_cottonwood.html
dancing,
Thanks for the info! I would have thought you couldn't do anything with cottonwood because the wood is so soft. I will definitely ask them to keep some for me - if I'm home when they cut it down. I have no idea when they'll come and I would be really sad if I arrived at home and found my beloved tree gone.
I think that I will at least tack a note on the tree so if I'm gone when they come, I can ask them to save me some of wood.
Thanks again for the idea! You're brilliant!
Indigo Incarnates
I always feel sad when trees die. what the world needs is a lot more trees and a lot fewer humans.
Agree, Indigo.
I think that I want to be a tree next time.
I'm sorry you have to say goodbye to your cottonwood, Carol. I'm sure I would shed some tears at such a thing.
I have always had a thing for trees in particular. We lost some large pinons to drought and it was very sad. One that was far from the house we left standing after it died. Its bare limbs served as a protective shield for the little seedlings planted by the wind. Today that bare pinon is surrounded by a circle of grandchildren.
The dead pinons near the house had to removed, however. That's the way it goes sometimes. But as you know, our "spirit chair" sit on their stumps.
I mean "spirit chairS." Plural. Two of them. Spirits do travel in pairs sometimes, don't they?
San,
I, too, have a thing for trees. When I am feeling a need for a different perspective, I see and feel myself as a tree, just rooted in the ground and watching. Just witnessing with no opinion or preferences.
I love that you left the skeleton of the pinon to protect the grandchildren. That's so beautiful.
I didn't know about the spirit chairs on the stumps. Tell me more!
We lost a huge oak tree a few years back. It's hard not to get attached to them.
Oak trees are so beautiful.
You're right that it's hard to not get attached. I don't think I'm going to try to.
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