Our Willows: In Memoriam

WILLOWS ARE SHORT-LIVED TREES.

From my desk, I see a large redwood tree, 25 feet from our house, that may live 2,000 years (barring the end of the planet). The tall birch tree, whose white trunks fill our living room window, may last well into the 22nd century, unless it succumbs to the bronze birch borer.

Willow trees, on average, live only 50 years.

The two majestic willows that grace the common meadow behind our house are 45 years old. They were planted in 1974, before the houses that now surround the meadow were built. In June, a large limb crashed to the ground (weighing at least 300 lbs.). The meadow is a thoroughfare for older walkers and a playing field for kids in the neighborhood, so the limb failure was ominous.

Those of us who grew up in small towns and suburbs may have a favorite willow tree in our past. I did. A huge willow lined a stream near the faculty housing where my friends and I lived in Princeton and after school, when there was still daylight, we’d run to the stream, grab a fist full of willow branches and swing to the other side. On breezy afternoons, we’d lie on our back and watch the willow leaves dance against the sky.

As far as I can tell, there hasn’t been a lot of swinging on the willows in our meadow. But raccoon and squirrel nests dot the branches, woodpecker holes line the trunk, and birds feed and shelter there. From a human perspective, the willows seem heaven-sent, as elegant in the winter when their branches are naked as in the spring and summer when they are flush.

After much debate, plans for “removing” the willows (and planting young red oaks in their place) wound their way through the Ashland City Planning Department, whose okay was required. Then our Home Owner Association voted their approval, 40 to 3, for a special assessment to cover the cost of the removal and replanting.

This past Monday, the two trees—each maybe 50 feet tall and 40 feet wide—met their fate. The first fell in 12 minutes. The second took five hours, as Casey Roland, one of Ashland’s premier tree care experts, swung from limb to limb, like an aerialist for the Cirque de Soleil with a chainsaw, methodically sending large branches tumbling to the ground, one after another. He yelled “Headache!” before sending each limb downward. A rope that stretched across the meadow brought the remaining trunk earthward, with a seismic ripple of leaves as it hit the ground. A post mortem revealed extensive limb rot.

You may have heard about Peter Wohlleben’s book The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate—Discoveries from a Secret World. Are trees social beings, he wonders. Yes, answers Wohlleben, arguing (along with other scientists) that trees belong to a social network, one that communicates and collaborate. They are far more alert and intelligent than we thought.

What, I wonder, did the redwood tree and birch in my back yard hear and say when these two mighty willows hit the ground? Did they weep?

“The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit. “ — Nelson Henderson

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” — Kahlil Gibran

“Learn character from trees, values from roots, and change from leaves.” ― Tasneem Hameed

“Storms make trees take deeper roots.” — Dolly Parton

“Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.” — Chinese proverb

“It is difficult to realize how great a part of all that is cheerful and delightful in the recollections of our own life is associated with trees.”— Wilson Flagg

 “Love is like a tree, it grows of its own accord, it puts down deep roots into our whole being.” — Victor Hugo

“We can learn a lot from trees: they’re always grounded but never stop reaching heavenward.”— Everett Mamor

“Trees are right at the heart of all the necessary debates: ecological, social, economic, political, moral, religious.”― Colin Tudge

“To exist as a nation, to prosper as a state, to live as a people, we must have trees.” ― Theodore Roosevelt

  “He who plants a tree, plants a hope.”― Lucy Larcom

SUBSCRIBE

Add your name to the email “blast” announcing new posts. Please send your name and email address to:

subscribe@postcards-from-the-rogue-valley.blog