“There is, nevertheless, a certain respect
and a general duty of humanity that ties us,
not only to beasts that have life and sense,
but even to trees and plants.”
Michel Eyquem, seigneur de Montaigne
(1533 – 1592)
I love trees. I always have. Since I was a kid, I’ve believed trees have souls. That may have come from an unusual experience in my one-horse hometown.
There was this beautiful, old Live Oak on the edge of town. Everyone knew it, and we all called it “Old Soul.” People said it was aged at least 250 years and was the oldest thing in our community. We respected that tree. Most of us loved it.
One day, the banker’s family decided they’d like a new lane heading out to their fishing pond. As Old Soul was in the way of their proposed path, they decided to cut it down. (The ancient tree was located on their property.) They called on every able man in town, and not one agreed to cut down Old Soul. Times were hard, so turning down a paying job shows just how much that tree meant to our community. As no locals would do the destructive work, the banker started looking outside our town for willing men.
Soon, a couple of brothers turned up with their equipment, happy to be working. They hadn’t anticipated the entire town turning out to protest the job. They hadn’t anticipated the size of the tree itself. And they hadn’t anticipated one other thing.
As they first put steel to wood, there was a strange crying sound on the wind. The brothers heard it and stopped. The banker heard it. The gathered townspeople heard it, too. No one had any idea what the sound was. We only knew we’d never heard anything like it. The brothers again commenced their work and the sound grew louder. That’s when everyone in attendance understood: the crying was coming from Old Soul.
The brothers were frightened and refused to cut down the tree. The bankers pleaded, but the terrified brothers fled. We all would have cheered, but the truth is, we were in awe, confused and a little afraid ourselves.
Word soon spread of that day’s strange event. After several more failed attempts with different workers, the banker’s family gave up on cutting down the tree. By the time I moved away, the desired, paved road had been built to that pond. The road curved around Old Soul.
If only it were true. You see, this is one of the many stories my great-grandfather used to tell when I was a child. I never actually saw that tree. I’m not sure he did, either. But when I sat there on the floor in front of him, wrapped in the aroma of his Prince Albert tobacco smoke and warmed by the gas heater and the single bulb suspended from the high ceiling of that old, rickety house, I could see that tree as clearly as if I’d met it myself. And to this day, I believe trees have souls.
This month’s FREE mp3 download from Love & Honesty is “Holy Waters.” Here’s the link: http://www.mikkibrisk.com/music/ And remember, I’d love for you to forward the link to everyone you know!
Happy April-
Mikki