The Republican journal., 1869-09-09
SOUNDS OF TREES.
BY HENRY WARD BEECuER

N''''-0AA''AN
The sounds and motions Of trees constitute
subtle but important elements OF pleasure.
1t is not enough that 4 tree shall have a come
~ form as a Whole-that it cast dense shade
IN the sultry days of summer, and that per
haps it yield a nut or fruit-and finally that.
when it gives up its life to the inevitable ak,
its PROSTATE trunk shall furnish good timber.
BESIDES these uses ofbodily comfort and econ
omy, tree, like q rich-heartcd person, has u
hundred nameless ways which we hardly stop
TO analyzc, but which, if they We're suddenly
taken away, we should miss
The murmuring Of trees is profoundly af-
i'ctlng to sensitive spirit. In some moods
OF imagination, one cannot help feeling that
trees have a low song, or a conversation OF
leaves. They whisper, or speak OF cry out
and even roar. No one knows this last quail
ity so well rs those who have been in old oak
forests in a storm with violent wind A dense
forest opposes such a resistance to the free
passage of the air, that the sound is much
deadencd. But in Il vark or oak opening
where spaces are left for the motion of the
AR, and among open-brnchcd trees, a storm
moves with such power and majesty, that not
even the battles of thunder-clouds are more
sublime, and under certain circumstances it
becomes terrific. At the beginning Of a tenn
pest, the trees sway and toss as if seeking to
escape; as the violence increases the branch
"f bounce back, the leaves, turning theil,
White underSidcs to the light, fairly scream
The huge boughs creak and strain like a ship
IN a storm. Now and then some branches
winch have grown across each other, are
drawn back and forth, as if demons were
graphing internal bass-viols. Occasionally a
branch breaks with wild crash or some in
firm tree, caught unawares in huge puff of
me storm, goes down with crashing as il falls.
and with thmdcr-strokc when il reaches
The ground. | would 90 further to hear a
7t"fn7concert in an old forest than any music
that man ever made. No one who is familiar
with forest sounds but is sure, when he hears
Errthovcn's music, that much of it was in
epired by the sounds of winds among the
trees.
There arc milder joys, however, in tree
converse. Only this morning | awakened to
hear it rain. That steady plash of drops
which northeast wind brings on, is not
easily mistaken; llatter myself that my car
Is TOO well trained to all the ordinary sounds
Of nature to be easily deceived. rise and
th.ow back the blinds and To- not a drop is
falling. 1t is the wind in my maple trees. /
had thought Of that and listened with the
most discriminating attention, and was sure
it was rain!
Twice in our lives we lived in houses built
on the edge Of the original forests. These
had been thinned out and rccesses opened up.
1t happened in both cases that an ash and
hickory had been left, which shot I'D, with
"ni side branches to q great height The
trunks We're supple and tough. Whenever
the winds moved gently, these long and 1.-the
trees moved with singular grace and beauty
AS there was no pcrccptiblc wind along the
ground 'helr movements seemed voluntary
AtIl of th..,n 1 a..
ton which one sees in sleep-walkinp Rut
As soon as the breath became a breeze. thc
wide circles through which these rooted gym
na'ts moved was wonderful. They seemed
going forth in every direction and vet surely
and quickly springing back to position again
And in every motion, such was their elastic
ity, they manifested the utmost grace. The
signing winds in q pine forest has no parallel
sound, except upon the sea-shore. OF all
sounds OF leaves, it is the sweetest and sad
deSt, TO certain moods Of summer leisure
The pine sings, like the poet, with nnevcry
day voice, but in a tone apart from all com
mon sounds. 1t has the power to change the
associations, and to quicken the poetic sensi-
nilhy, as no other singing tree can do. Every
one should have this old harper, like seer
or priest among trees, about his dwelling
I ndef an Old pine would naturally be found
" St'S iii'lluch whose new lover is far
across the seas In the sounds that would de-
schnd, she could not fail to hear the voices of
the seattle roar Of winds, the plash of waves
running lnupon the shore. The young mother
whose trst-born had returned to God who
gave it, would, at twilight, go to the pines
for to her ear the whole air must needs seem
full of spirit voices. They would sing to her
thoughts in Just such sad strains as soorbc
SORROW.
Nor would it seem strange if, in the rise
and fall of these sylvan syllables, she should
imagine that she heard her babe again, call
ing to her from the air.
Every country place should have that very