Hmmm, can we wish for more than to age as gracefully as the wise old tree of the forest?
I am a creature of habit in my summer ramblings for the winged wonders of nature. I regularly visit a handful of my favourite conservation areas in which I have identified the most productive areas. Much of the time I am retracing trails that I know like the back of my hand and diverting to check hot spots that reliably produce good sightings.
But occasionally, on overcast days when there is less activity than usual, I’ll venture down a new trail to see where it might lead. Yesterday was one such day at Terra Cotta Conservation Area. I was exploring a new trail when the tree at the top of this post caught my attention.
It is clearly an aged survivor of many summer storms and harsh winters. By size alone it stands out from all the trees around it. The half severed branch on the left side is itself larger in circumference than the trunks of any tree within shouting distance.
It’s gnarled and wounded form shows the stubs of branches long since sacrificed to the vicissitudes of the weather. Some may well be souvenirs of Hurricane Hazel which tore through southern Ontario sixty years ago. Others could be much more current reminders of the devastating ice storm from six months ago that ravaged trees without mercy.
I see this war torn veteran as the wise old grandfather of the forest. Each ring in its trunk holds the legacy of days past which may be all but forgotten. If it could speak, the tales it might tell if it were so inclined!
Grandfather Terra Cotta Tree embodies many lessons:
Life is not a sprint. It is an endurance race towards a finish line of which we are never quite certain. There is no prize for getting there quickly. It is the lessons along the way that count.
None of us gets through life without scars. The fates turn against all of us at one time or another regardless of how worthy we may be. The only question is whether we let the scars make us bitter or we wear them as badges of honour.
We all must plant our roots somewhere. It may or may not be a physical place. But there must be something to which we anchor ourselves to give our life meaning and feed us the strength to withstand the storms.
Old age is not the penalty we pay for the years of life we are given. It is a gift we learn to live into with grace – expecting not to be exempted but instead thankful that we are among those fortunate enough to receive it.
Grandfather Terra Cotta Tree is in the twilight of its years. Woodpeckers chisel holes in its trunk which is hollowed and weakened. Creatures find refuge there from the rain. The pile of sawdust at its feet continues to grow.
The day will come when its resilience is used up. It will topple to the ground and slowly decay. In time, it will complete the metaphor for which it has always been intended – the circle of life in which every living creature partakes. As the sun sets on one life, it always rises on another.
~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.
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Tags: 2013 ice storm · aging · grandfather tree · Hurricane Hazel · metaphor · Michael Robert Dyet · Terra Cotta Conservation AreaNo Comments