Tag: trees

Be Like Water; Be Persistent

Echo Valley Farm is in its twenty-fifth year. Years ago, I met an old man in our little town who asked where I lived. When I told him, he boasted that in one day they had taken down more trees on that property than anywhere he could remember. It’s funny how we learn unexpected truths. I saw his pride and recognized that talking about clearcutting was not a battle I could win – not this way. But since then, every year we purchase 75 to 100 saplings from our county conservation department. Now many red oaks, maples, apples, elderberry, burr oaks, white pines and spruce have found a home here. 

This year we chose trees that have life spans of 200 to 300 years, hickory and chestnuts. Their nuts may begin producing in five to ten years. The healing of the land continues. Over time I’ve learned that the deer will mow down every unprotected sapling. Wire fences work great, until the rabbits teach you how much they love to girdle the young fruit trees. So now another layer of protection is required to ward them off until each marvelous breathing tree is capable of withstanding the onslaught.

And this is the resilience and the persistence we need. We live in a time of reckoning. From the moment colonizers landed on Turtle Island, as Indigenous People recognized North America as Turtle Island, there has been a rush of exploitation of land, water, and people. This finite approach toward living is reaching its zenith and a swift fall will follow. Those in control who are willingly ready to destroy the earth and have no compassion for any being living here are outnumbered and soon will be outflanked.

Let us be like water; find a way around the obstacles. Healing is not only possible; it’s joyful.

With each passing year, I fall deeper in love with the forest that will one day be.

above photo: 25 year old spruce; 15 year old oak

below photo: 3 yer old red maple living in what will become a sugar bush

A Glorious Existence

After a bit of effort, I found the number of an old friend. We hadn’t spoken in a few years and so far we still haven’t, but his voice message made me smile. It was simple. He said, “I hope you are having a glorious existence”.

I had just come in from another foray into our old heirloom apple orchard. My trees have suffered from recent droughts, and truthfully many never fully recovered from the goats we had a while ago. But I heard an apple expert on the radio say that taking off the dead branches and nipping the suckers can give a forty-year-old tree new life. Perhaps another forty. I liked the sound of that.

So, as I wander through the orchard, I wrangle with dead branches and revel when I cut down the vines sucking life from the trees.  The multi floral rose and autumn olive are also threats, and I do my best to remove them, remembering my mother’s words, “Give it a lick and a promise”. It meant that after a quick assessment she would promise to return to finish the task at hand. Today as I was fulfilling the promise, I realized I could spend the rest of my days quite happily wandering through this orchard, caring for the old trees and planting new. 

The young saplings don’t always make it. The deer are prolific and eat them if they are not protected. Life has its fragility.

Planting saplings is a promise kept: to see the old orchard carry on. There is something defiantly delightful in maintaining these precious heirlooms. The hybrid ones may be heartier and look prettier, but they will never touch the sweet taste of the cider made from a variety of heirlooms.

So yes, my friend and to all my friends, I am enjoying a glorious existence in appreciation of the life I am being given. And I wish the same for all of you. Bring on 2025!