A LAND WITH TREES STANDS TALLER

Rex Burress

The forests of eastern America must have been an overwhelming sight when Pilgrims settled at Plymouth in 1620.

A recent flight video depicting the Potomac River and the Hudson River Valley gives a sample of what that original stand of continuous trees from the Midwest to the Atlantic must have been. There would indeed seem to be plenty of trees when faced with such a scene, but incredibly the bulk of those upright obstacles to agriculture were mostly cleared in a few decades.

Luckily, trees will regrow if given time which has happened in many parts of pioneer country, and especially around cities where they seem to be valued highest, and of course the reserve protected in parks. Be thankful for parks and the people who provided for them. Theodore Roosevelt, John Muir, and, yes, poet Joaquin Miller, were among the tree-loving conservation leaders with foresight to the future.

Contrary to what Ronald Reagan said about; “If you've seen one redwood you've seen them all,” ecologists like E. O. Wilson shot that down with; “If you've seen one ant, one bird, one redwood tree, you obviously haven't seen them all.”

There was a time in the early 1800's when the Sacramento Valley featured forests of oaks that stretched from the Sacramento River to the foothills so completely that Spanish explorers, clad in hot armor, were said to be able to walk in shade most of the way. Machines and crops have replaced most of the trees, thus it is heartening for tree lovers when communities like Chico and Oroville make strides in nurturing the urban forest.

There is a fascination in seeing a sapling grow upward into a towering tree, drawing water high into leaves against the pull of gravity, until at last it waves its branches in the wind like victory flags above the soil. The mere appearance of a tree with out-thrust appendages supported by a staunch trunk is reminiscent of a person. Perhaps that is why there is so much human sympathy identified with trees.

Even though there is value in wood for fuel, construction, and shade, even unto our times—and certain allowances for tree-use should be made—but the early settlers had no qualms in chopping trees for log cabins, clearing forests to make fields, burning slash, and in general thoughtlessly using trees much like the passenger pigeons were handled. Consideration for the land was often overlooked, quite unlike the John Muir thoughts of having sufficient land and tree preservation for future forests. Getting Congress to devote spaces for parks and wilderness was as difficult in young America days as it is now. When it comes to something of value, aesthetics often take a back seat to money.

I am reminded of Sergeant Joyce Kilmer in World War I writing his poem about trees, allegedly in a foxhole where he died. “...A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed/ Against the earth's sweet flowing breast...” Little wonder that it was trees that came to his mind since they, and their wood for buildings, are a sheltering comfort in a time of storm.

“A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease.” --John Muir

“Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot run away; and if they could, they would still be chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got out of their bark hides, branching horns, or magnificent bole backbones.” --John Muir

“Oh, the glorious, all-protecting trees! A tree standing to the four winds, holding up its great strong arms as in mute prayer, waiting the rain and the sun, and the majestic march of the seasons, how grandly upright, patient, appealing, faithful, and true! --Joaquin Miller