Yes...it's true.
I...am a tree hugger.
Blame my spoiled youth...if you must.
There were eight giant oak trees in my parents' front yard. Hours of my childhood were spent tending to those trees. Raking leaves into piles for playing.....collecting bags of acorns for slingshot ammo....and climbing those old giants. My dad took some unused rope from the barn loft hay pulley system and fashioned a rope swing on one of the largest trees for us. Its branches extended over the front of the house. My brothers, sister and I would climb onto the roof of the house and jump. Soaring high over the yard until our momentum would crest...the rope would slack... and down we would fly. Laughing and screaming that we could touch the moon.
Long gone are those days. The giant oaks succumbing to disease....my dad took the last of them down in the fall of 2005.
What got me thinking about these amazing trees? Penfold's lament on missing proper trees in Portugal.
I consider myself very lucky to have grown up in Oregon. We have big beautiful trees...despite the logging.
Big...beautiful...trees.
Go ahead....hug one.
I...am a tree hugger.
Blame my spoiled youth...if you must.
There were eight giant oak trees in my parents' front yard. Hours of my childhood were spent tending to those trees. Raking leaves into piles for playing.....collecting bags of acorns for slingshot ammo....and climbing those old giants. My dad took some unused rope from the barn loft hay pulley system and fashioned a rope swing on one of the largest trees for us. Its branches extended over the front of the house. My brothers, sister and I would climb onto the roof of the house and jump. Soaring high over the yard until our momentum would crest...the rope would slack... and down we would fly. Laughing and screaming that we could touch the moon.
Long gone are those days. The giant oaks succumbing to disease....my dad took the last of them down in the fall of 2005.
What got me thinking about these amazing trees? Penfold's lament on missing proper trees in Portugal.
I consider myself very lucky to have grown up in Oregon. We have big beautiful trees...despite the logging.
Big...beautiful...trees.
Go ahead....hug one.
These soldiers lost their battle this past November to torrential downpours and 85mph winds.
photos courtesy of gaz
I knew you had it in you.
ReplyDeleteCheers for the mention...
I'm a tree hugger too. And Oregon's the perfect place for it. We are lucky.
ReplyDeleteReminds of a John Muir essay about riding out a windstorm in an evergreen in Yosemite. He just climbed up there and felt the wind thrash him about for hours. That's more than tree hugging - that's tree bonding.
Another one steps into the limelight...
ReplyDeleteMaybe we could start an international treehugging frenzy!
It looks as though these particular trees have been hugged just a tad too much.
ReplyDeleteI love tree as well... back when I was in school I used to work for the forest service as a wildland firefighter
ReplyDeleteI love the way you call a large garden a yard.In the UK a yard is a smallish enclosed area usually tarmacked or concreted over, so it's difficult to visualise a yard with eight giant oaks in it! What do you mean if you say garden?
ReplyDeletePQ - you too? I knew you were a big softy - come on give me a hug too...
ReplyDeleteKP - my folks' house sits on an acre. There are front, back & side yards...with grass, shrubs & trees. Within the yards are gardens....for flowers, veggies, etc...
ReplyDeleteI like who you have become again. These things you write can make me smile at times. We are fortunate here. As much as I bitch and gripe about the weather and crap, outside of surfing, there is not much more peaceful to me than to spend times amongst these old forsts on the north coast. Take care my friend.
ReplyDeleteme hug tree too : )old sprits they are
ReplyDelete