The Cherry Tree
This is a story about a tree. But it's also a story about friends and advice from friends, the passing of the seasons and a loss that led to treasures. Maybe you have a life
story about a favorite tree that you remember from your young years, or
one that is in your life right now. It could be one that you walk past
often, one you admire from afar, or one that lives on your property or
nearby.
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There is a cherry tree in my front yard. It is very old. In the past it bloomed beautifully since it is a weeping cherry that bears no fruit but was overflowing with abundance in pale pink blossoms in the springtime.
Well my cherry tree died. There were theories as to why this happened.
An oak tree rested in my front yard for over 100 years. Not knowing any better, for many years I had grass planted right up to the trunk of the tree. It looked really nice to me as a mid-westerner. But little did I know that this was a western oak that likes it very dry except in the winter when it soaks up the winter rains. I watered that lawn faithfully every week, but the tree didn't like it. After 15 years, the tree started to look sick. My Portuguese neighbor, Victor, who walked around the neighborhood two or three times every day for his exercise in those days mentioned it to me initially. We both took a look. He had a good eye for these things, being a great gardener himself. I called the tree people who came over and said, sure enough, it had to come down. This is about 7 or 8 years ago.
It was a big event in the neighborhood when that oak came down. There are many oaks around here but each one is so massive, wide and great that it takes a crane and a crew to take them down, unless they come down during a whooping, walloping Pacific storm when the fierce wind howls, pulling and tearing at them and they fall. As I stood there with the tree guy before they began, I said, "are you sure it has to come down?" and he replied, "we won't know until we get inside, but it doesn't look good and I've seen a tree this size take down a 2 story home." His remark convinced me and sure enough when it came down, you could see the entire trunk was decayed. That winter the storms were bolder and more fierce than ever and as I sat inside with a cozy fire in the fireplace I was happy that I didn't feel threatened that a tree could come crashing into my home.
Well, the other side of that is that the cherry tree had been shaded all those years by that oak. It never had to bear the brunt of the blazing summer sun. There it grew, peacefully in the shade, its delicate sprays of willowy branches filling up with leaves in the springtime after it bloomed, right outside the kitchen window.
Over time, without the protection of the oak, it started to wilt in the summer. It started to lose its leaves. I had tree people come. They put fertilizer into the trunk. I put the deep watering into the ground to water the roots two protect it. I was thinking that the summer sun blazing on that poor cherry was killing it.
Also mushrooms started coming to my yard every spring, large clumps of mushrooms. My neighbor John said it's from the roots of the oak rotting. Wherever those mushrooms sprout up, they do damage to the roots of the plants that they grow upon. There were many that sprouted up at the base of the cherry tree over the years.
The cherry tree was sadder and sadder every year. Last year was the final year that it held any blossoms. I felt that the shade of the oak was the reason that it just couldn't carry on any more. My neighbor, John, thinks it was the oak fungus. But either way, the tree was so sad it stood there in the yard bare of any leaves because I couldn't bear to cut it down. At the same time, coming home to it was not good either because after awhile, well, there was this dead tree front and center in my yard.
What to do? Thing of it is that the trunk is beautiful to me. It is all gnarled and wonderful with this white-birch-y feeling to it. And it is so pretty to see out the window.
John and I considered the situation. He said he would take it down if he could have the wood to make something out of it. "It's a deal," I said.
One Saturday when I was out, he took it down. I didn't know he was going to do it right then, but it was OK, I knew he was going to do it some time soon and that I might or might not be home. I came home and sure enough it was gone. Just the trunk remained.
Actually I was glad to not see the dead tree there in the front yard.
I caught up with John later that day and saw the logs from the tree. He said there wasn't really anything much good to make anything out of because it was so rotted. He walked over with me and showed me how the entire center of the trunk was rotted. But we talked about it and that trunk will still stand there for quite awhile like that, I like to think.
My friend Eleanor comes to stay at my house sometimes, she retired to Fort Bragg up the coast but she used to live here. She's an artist. She did the book cover for our first book on TellOurLifeStories.com and it's available on blurb.com.
Eleanor came to visit and I was telling her that I didn't know what should go on the trunk. It seemed like it needed something. At first I thought a birdbath. Eleanor said, "I think it needs a birdhouse."
Lo and behold, the next time Eleanor came to visit, she brought me a birdhouse that she made out of 100-year-old barnwood. It is the most beautiful birdhouse you would want to see. It is tall and it is absolutely perfect on that trunk. Everyone remarks about it. "Great birdhouse," they say. I tell them I can give them Eleanor's number and she could make them one, since I want to promote her art career.
Then, much to my great surprise, John posted a picture on Facebook of something he made out of the cherry tree. How beautiful was that? And out of my cherry tree! What an artist John is too! The cherry tree grows art! Who knew.
Well John also made spoons out of the tree. He left them on my kitchen table when I went to Wisconsin for Christmas. I didn't see them till he picked me up at the airporter when I returned. There they were on my kitchen table in a brown paper bag, along with a beautiful little cherrywood box. I didn't even find them till several hours after I returned home that evening. I called over there right away.
So the cherry tree is gone, but treasures remain.
________________________________________________________________
There is a cherry tree in my front yard. It is very old. In the past it bloomed beautifully since it is a weeping cherry that bears no fruit but was overflowing with abundance in pale pink blossoms in the springtime.
Well my cherry tree died. There were theories as to why this happened.
An oak tree rested in my front yard for over 100 years. Not knowing any better, for many years I had grass planted right up to the trunk of the tree. It looked really nice to me as a mid-westerner. But little did I know that this was a western oak that likes it very dry except in the winter when it soaks up the winter rains. I watered that lawn faithfully every week, but the tree didn't like it. After 15 years, the tree started to look sick. My Portuguese neighbor, Victor, who walked around the neighborhood two or three times every day for his exercise in those days mentioned it to me initially. We both took a look. He had a good eye for these things, being a great gardener himself. I called the tree people who came over and said, sure enough, it had to come down. This is about 7 or 8 years ago.
It was a big event in the neighborhood when that oak came down. There are many oaks around here but each one is so massive, wide and great that it takes a crane and a crew to take them down, unless they come down during a whooping, walloping Pacific storm when the fierce wind howls, pulling and tearing at them and they fall. As I stood there with the tree guy before they began, I said, "are you sure it has to come down?" and he replied, "we won't know until we get inside, but it doesn't look good and I've seen a tree this size take down a 2 story home." His remark convinced me and sure enough when it came down, you could see the entire trunk was decayed. That winter the storms were bolder and more fierce than ever and as I sat inside with a cozy fire in the fireplace I was happy that I didn't feel threatened that a tree could come crashing into my home.
Well, the other side of that is that the cherry tree had been shaded all those years by that oak. It never had to bear the brunt of the blazing summer sun. There it grew, peacefully in the shade, its delicate sprays of willowy branches filling up with leaves in the springtime after it bloomed, right outside the kitchen window.
Over time, without the protection of the oak, it started to wilt in the summer. It started to lose its leaves. I had tree people come. They put fertilizer into the trunk. I put the deep watering into the ground to water the roots two protect it. I was thinking that the summer sun blazing on that poor cherry was killing it.
Also mushrooms started coming to my yard every spring, large clumps of mushrooms. My neighbor John said it's from the roots of the oak rotting. Wherever those mushrooms sprout up, they do damage to the roots of the plants that they grow upon. There were many that sprouted up at the base of the cherry tree over the years.
The cherry tree was sadder and sadder every year. Last year was the final year that it held any blossoms. I felt that the shade of the oak was the reason that it just couldn't carry on any more. My neighbor, John, thinks it was the oak fungus. But either way, the tree was so sad it stood there in the yard bare of any leaves because I couldn't bear to cut it down. At the same time, coming home to it was not good either because after awhile, well, there was this dead tree front and center in my yard.
What to do? Thing of it is that the trunk is beautiful to me. It is all gnarled and wonderful with this white-birch-y feeling to it. And it is so pretty to see out the window.
John and I considered the situation. He said he would take it down if he could have the wood to make something out of it. "It's a deal," I said.
One Saturday when I was out, he took it down. I didn't know he was going to do it right then, but it was OK, I knew he was going to do it some time soon and that I might or might not be home. I came home and sure enough it was gone. Just the trunk remained.
Actually I was glad to not see the dead tree there in the front yard.
I caught up with John later that day and saw the logs from the tree. He said there wasn't really anything much good to make anything out of because it was so rotted. He walked over with me and showed me how the entire center of the trunk was rotted. But we talked about it and that trunk will still stand there for quite awhile like that, I like to think.
My friend Eleanor comes to stay at my house sometimes, she retired to Fort Bragg up the coast but she used to live here. She's an artist. She did the book cover for our first book on TellOurLifeStories.com and it's available on blurb.com.
Eleanor came to visit and I was telling her that I didn't know what should go on the trunk. It seemed like it needed something. At first I thought a birdbath. Eleanor said, "I think it needs a birdhouse."
Lo and behold, the next time Eleanor came to visit, she brought me a birdhouse that she made out of 100-year-old barnwood. It is the most beautiful birdhouse you would want to see. It is tall and it is absolutely perfect on that trunk. Everyone remarks about it. "Great birdhouse," they say. I tell them I can give them Eleanor's number and she could make them one, since I want to promote her art career.
Then, much to my great surprise, John posted a picture on Facebook of something he made out of the cherry tree. How beautiful was that? And out of my cherry tree! What an artist John is too! The cherry tree grows art! Who knew.
Well John also made spoons out of the tree. He left them on my kitchen table when I went to Wisconsin for Christmas. I didn't see them till he picked me up at the airporter when I returned. There they were on my kitchen table in a brown paper bag, along with a beautiful little cherrywood box. I didn't even find them till several hours after I returned home that evening. I called over there right away.
So the cherry tree is gone, but treasures remain.
Hi - loved this cherry tree story; I am now inspired to write about a couple of trees at our former home in Fairfax. Thanks, Margaret. Eleanor
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me again ... I'm not sure you needed me to do this once more, but I do want you to know I've checked in ... Eleanor
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