A few miles outside of town there is a tree that is sort of an area landmark. It stands alone near an intersection of 2 gravel roads alongside a field, which depending on the year and season, could be full of corn, wheat or just tilled soil. The tree is old. My Dad remembers it from way back. The tree is hollow and the side facing the road the trunk has a large opening. I’m sure the tree has encountered many hardships due to mother nature over its life and I’ve witnessed a few that were man made. For some reason the opening in the trunk is a popular place to start a fire. Also under it’s branches is a popular dumping ground and “parking” spot.
More personal to me though is that the tree is how I’ve always known where to make the turn to go to the cemetery where we have family buried.
I took the above photo just this past Friday. My Aunt passed away earlier last week and was laid to rest along side my other family members. I was making a return trip to the cemetery to once again pay my last respects but this time alone. I stopped to visit the tree as I always do. While I hung around snapping pics of the tree a couple thoughts entered my mind…
All alone, tortured, scarred and presumed dead each winter, yet each spring the tree would sprout it’s leaves and stand proud.
I’ve photographed this tree many times always from this bad side. On this visit for the first time I thought I should take a few extra steps out of my way to see and photograph the tree from its good side. Something I’d never done. Somehow I forgot to do that before I left.
I think there’s probably a couple of metaphors for life in what I just typed.
This morning I received a call from my Dad. It was about the tree. Nova and I hopped on our bikes and rode to the tree. This is was what we found…
My Dad had been in the area early this morning and was first to spot the burning tree and call the fire department. The way he described the tree while it was in flames must have been quite a site to see. He stuck around waiting for the fire department to arrive and witnessed the big branches fall to the ground.
The fireman had left but were returning at the same time we reached the tree. They’d had multiple calls since Dad’s. Talking to the fireman I found out in addition to the tree being a popular place for dumping and fires, it was also used for multiple attempted hangings. I didn’t ask for the details.
I believe that somehow even if they remove what’s left of the tree, I’ll still remember where to make my turn.
After paying our last respects to the tree we realized we were half-way to a destination we sometimes enjoy so we kept heading in to the wind till we reached the casino. We had an early lunch and dropped a few bucks in the name of entertainment.
And a little more entertainment in the way of a dog chase on the way home.
