Date: 2010-02-14
To: Worth a hug.
Miles today: 0.0

They come tall and thin and short and wide. Some are round while many conical. There are bushy ones, although not bushes, while others have needles, although not cacti.Some weep but are not sad. Some are dwarfed but are fully grown. They drop their leaves of red, orange and yellow and some stay forever green every season and are not always green but blue or golden. Flowers spring in Spring from some, cones fall in Fall from others. They provide us fruit and nuts and importantly shade to eat their fruit and nuts. Curiously, there are pear and plum varieties that produce pears and plums and pear and plum that only produce flowers. An Eastern Red Cedar is actually a juniper and an Umbrella Pine is actually a Sequoia. One day a year we celebrate them by planting more. We call them specimens as individuals and forests in large groups. Small groups are called stands and those lying horizontal across the trail are called blow-downs. Larger than anything else on Earth, they cover entire mountains by the thousands from one root source and then some live thousands of years all by themselves. They do not ask for much, just some dirt, water and sun. In return they give us air that allows us breathe, live, love, eat donuts and oh yes, thru-hike. Good trade. If your hike goes well and your smile remains wide, you¢ll meet oaks named Keffer and Dover whose age is measured in centuries rather than years. Some summits are engulfed in Christmasland while others are barren to any because we climb above them.We sometimes can¢t see the forest for the individuals, wish that money grew on them and speak of optimism by stating that even big oaks start from small acorns. Botanists give them Latin names most of us can¢t pronounce even though Latin isn¢t an official language anywhere ¢ not even in Latin America. Fortunately, they also have pronounceable names like Sugar Maple, Sycamore, Sassafras, as well as Poplar, Pinyon and Palm. There are Ash and Aspen and Crabapple and Chestnut. A Hemlock is not a Redwood, nor is a Redwood a Fir, but all are conifers. We have Japanese maples and cherry¢s right here in America ¢ our nations capital even celebrates that gift of the orient with the Cherry Blossom Festival. We can see Norway Spruce, English Oak and Italian Cypress without having to cross an ocean ¢ So cool. There are pink and white Dogwoods, but oddly no Catwoods of any color. We bonsai them, graft, prune and espalier them and heed wise words to ¢Plant them high they¢ll reach the sky. Plant them low they¢ll never grow.¢ Their branches help us trace our ancestor¢s genealogy. When saying things we shouldn¢t, we knock on wood to erase the curse. Saplings speak to tomorrow while old growth speaks of yesterday. Without them, where would we put our hammocks? We owe much to them, even more than an occasional hug. What hike isn¢t made richer by a toasty campfire and warm conversation all thanks to their littered, discarded limbs? Called Thru-hiker TV, we take turns operating the remote (a stick) to keep the nights entertainment at its hypnotic peak. Nothing quite like a fire to turn a camp into a home. We learn to pitch our tents under them to avoid a heavy, dew laden morning tent and take heed to not set up under a Widow Maker. We even delay taking our countless breaks till the perfect stump or a fallen fellow appears. Yes, there¢s much to be thankful for having them, isn¢t there. I may have forgotten to smell the roses at one time in life, that greatest of errors has been corrected; now I frequently stop to smell the evergreen.