To honor a tree (Thank you, mighty hemlock)
A scary and unholy thing is happening today. We're murdering a tree.
Perhaps 75 or 80 years ago, it began majestically spreading its towering young branches with great joy toward the warm sunshine. Since sunshine is hard to find at times here in the Great Pacific Northwest, maybe the tree became confused. Instead of a magnificent single trunk leading straight and true toward the sky, it instead developed three trunks, splitting dangerously at a point about 10 feet above the ground. Dangerous to whom?
As the morning progresses, and I hear again and again the old tree's groans and arguments against the saw, I feel ashamed. Ashamed! Ashamed!
Just because this mighty triumph to its maker grew exuberantly and mightily ... as it should ... and just because man came trodding noisily into the woods and decided to take his place there ... and especially because of man's cowardly nature ... something sacred has to die.
Forgive us, Lord. Oh please forgive us, for today we have diminished ourselves. But we now are safe. Our tender flesh is safe.
As further insult, we frightened humans will commit the atrocity of warming our weak bodies by burning what remains of this magnificent creation. Thank you, Oh Mighty Hemlock! Thank you.
JoAnne Blevins, Woodinville