Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit
is? - Frank Scully-
The best I can remember it was the summer just prior to my eighth birthday when my Pop
introduced me to trees. Now some of you are thinking that I must have been living in a cave prior to that if, by
the age of eight, I didn't know what trees were. Let me give you a point of reference -- We all know about poems,
however, we may not always fully comprehend each one's deeper meaning or fully anticipate the impact they might
have on our lives. Then there is one of Pop's lessons: -- Some things are so familiar that we often take them for
granted!
In many parts of the world they are referred to as forests, however, out behind our house
in Western Kentucky they were the "woods". These woods were about three miles deep and lay between our
house and the Clark River (which fed directly into the mighty Ohio). These were old growth woods having never been
subject to harvesting or fire and they were eclectic in nature (containing almost all the different types of trees
which were indigenous to the Ohio River Bottom country). I'm getting somewhat ahead of myself, you see, my learning
about trees began in our yard well prior to getting into the woods.
About 15 feet off our back stoop was a Weeping Willow tree and it was magnificent. It
must have been 25-30 feet high and had a rounded crown of weeping branches that sweep to the ground. The tree was
not actually good for much except looking good, rustling in the wind and as a source for make-believe whips or
real life switches. Off to the side of the house was a Persimmon tree. Again this tree was not good for much, however,
it did have a fruit that fell off and made mowing the yard under it a mess and it also provided great weapons for
make-believe war (especially when they were ripe).
The tree in our yard that had substance was the giant Oak. It kind of spoke to
me with a resounding voice: "I am a TREE!" To most any child, this tree was everything about fun. It
provided unlimited climbing opportunities with limbs going every which way, one of which was just perfect for a
rope swing and others that formed the foundation for a tree house. It provided shade when cooling off was necessary,
shelter from a mid summer storm, leaves for that school project, bark to carve my initials in, dead wood for camp
fires, perfect Y's for slingshots, and places to hide from my sister. It played host to wonderful things like woodpeckers,
squirrels, tree frogs, mistletoe, Spanish moss high on its limbs and (of course) the tiny acorn.
When Pop led me from our back yard out into the woods that day, he had with him a gnarly
old stick from our oak tree that he used as a walking stick. As we entered the woods I began looking around for
a stick of my own liking so to be like Pop. I picked up and tried out several. Some were too long, some were too
heavy and others too flimsy, however, I kept on looking and it was obvious that I was paying little attention to
anything else. After a while, Pop called a halt to my search, pointed out an old log near a thicket of brush and
indicated that we were to sit down. "Why?" I asked. Pop responded: "We are going to sit a while,
just look around, listen to the sounds of the woods and if we do it right, just the right stick will let itself
be known to you." Now most of you know that a boy just short of eight years old has a difficult time with
just sitting and listening, much less listening for some stick to talk to him.
As always, my Pop was both inventive and patient. After I stopped fidgeting, I began to
hear all the different sounds and really see the area surrounding that old log. I looked over to Pop and found
him sitting, his elbows resting on his knees, head hung looking (or so I thought) at the ground immediately in
front of his feet. I soon realized that he actually had his eyes closed and was just listening to the sounds and
seeing the woods in (what he called) his mind's eye. I, too, closed my eyes for a few moments but soon heard a
distinctive rustling and quickly opened my eyes and looked over toward that thicket; however, I could not determine
what caused the sound. Once again, I closed my eyes and very soon that peculiar sound came again. I got up and
eased my way over closer to the thicket and that instant I thought I caught a slight movement out of the corner
of my eye. Looking toward what I felt was the source, I reached down and picked up a stick and used it to part
the leaves on the bushes so that I could see deeper into the bramble, thinking it could have been a rabbit. It
quickly became apparent that whatever had made the noise was no longer there. I walked back over to the old log
and no sooner had I sat down, Pop got up and began to follow a path deeper into the woods. Because of that
sojourn on the log, I was much more in tune with the environment than myself or how I was walking. Pop seemed to
be in no hurry to get to any particular place or to converse with me so we went on at a leisurely pace. We kept
up this silent stroll for about 10 minutes, then Pop looked back at me and said: "I see you found your stick."
At my age I (of course) thought that I had already discovered everything in these woods.
I was sure that I had been on this path before but clearly I had not because we came to a slight clearing in the
woods that was totally dominated by an ancient tree the likes of which I had never seen before. Pop said that it
was a soft shell Pecan tree. Now I knew that a Pecan was a nut that Mom used to make one of my favorite pies, however
I had never seen a Pecan tree or nuts just lying on the ground like they were that day. To my amazement, Pop reached
down and picked up two of them, placed them in his hand in a special way and proceeded to crack open the shells.
He opened his hand and held it out so that I could sample the sweet meat, which was now accessible. No matter how
hard I tried to imitate Pop's method of cracking open the nuts, I could not. (It would be several more years before
my hands had the strength to do so.)
Further on down the path we came to a Birch tree. Pop told me that for hundreds, if not
thousands, of years Native Americans had been making canoes out of birchbark. As we went on into the woods
we found Cottonwood, Dogwood, Ash, Hickory, Magnolia, Sweetgum, and Sycamore. I found out from Pop that most of
the trees in our woods were deciduous (leafy) trees, which lose their leaves every year, and that most turned brilliant
colors in the fall. Seeds and nuts from many deciduous trees are a valuable food source, referred to as "mast,"
for wildlife. Many hardwoods provide the wood to make furniture, and ash and hickory make excellent tool handles
and baseball bats. Hardwood trees are popular for landscaping homes, providing shade during the summer, and not
blocking the warming sun during the winter, after their leaves have fallen. Did you know that hickory wood burns
hotter than any other wood and leaves very little ash? That's why my Uncle James used hickory to smoke his meat
at the Big Valley BBQ and why Kentucky BBQ is the world's best.
Final thought
On this first venture into the woods with my Pop, he (like he always did) placed me in
a position where I could learn from the situation at hand (trees) and begin to comprehend the bigger picture. He
had this innate sense about how to camouflage life lessons by introducing me to them in ways which provoked my
curiosity and stimulated my appetite for more.
On these occasions of companionship and adventures in understanding, Pop never told
me I had to do anything; he simply offered me the opportunity to join him in the experience. I never ever got the
feeling of being lectured to or of being force fed information, because we talked only when it was necessary, not
just to hear the sound of our voice, we looked when there was something to see with both the sense of sight and
in our mind's eye, and we listened for the sounds including the whispers, the roar and the sound of silence.
Pop taught me that touch was not the only way feeling occurred, that you could look at something yet not really
see it, that being alive and living were different things and that instances of a man and a boy on a walk in the
woods was why God invented trees.
