Trees: to Have and to Hold

katetodd502
Sep 12, 2022
5 min read

Updated: Sep 22, 2022

Appreciation for their beauty and brains

The brains:

I was enraptured by trees from a young age. The wild cherry tree on my childhood front

lawn lent itself as a playground for my brothers and me, and I was always privy to which trees in the neighborhood were optimal for climbing, providing shade, or photographing. However, it was not until I read the article “The Survivors” from The Washington Post Magazine that I realized how adroit trees truly are.

The article is abounding with information inciting the reader to look trees in the eyes as equals. I learned that trees communicate to each other through complex electrical signals transmitted through their roots. Galvanized by this information, I expanded my research, reading from Richard Grant on the scientist Peter Whollebehen in the article "Do Trees Talk to Each Other?"

The official term for this phenomenon is the mycorrhizal network, through which trees send each other chemical, hormonal and electrical signals about disease, insect attacks, animal behaviors, and more. However, trees’ powers are even more complex, and the way Grant and Whollebehen communicate this to their reader is almost wizardly. Their love for trees is palpable and their respect for them even more so.

Studies show that trees possess responses to pain and trauma. For example, if a deer bites off a branch, the tree sends foul-tasting chemicals to defend itself from the deer. By the contrary, if a human breaks a branch, the tree sends out healing substances to mend the branch, analogous to the human nervous and immune systems. The natural world is resilient, curative, and miraculous. It is stirring how trees, some of the most perennial entities on earth, still manage to astound modern-day scientists by their complexity.

Onto the beauty:

It is no mystery that trees are easy on the eyes. As we saunter in to my favorite season, autumn, I'm sharing an anecdote that truly stirred me last season, situated in the cherished Fort Hunt Park.

Fort Hunt Park is a staple of the Alexandria suburban area - adjacent to the Potomac, it's a passageway for many biking the Mount Vernon bike trail. It was also an original fort during the Spanish-American war, and as a kid there's fewer things more adrenaline-filling than playing hide and seek among the concrete gun battery forts. Most notably to me, it is home to some spectacular trees, and as the park consists of large grassy areas, its trees stick out like candy canes in Candyland.

There is a pair of maple trees along the tree grove near the parking lot that are simply marvelous in autumn (not to be confused with the large Oak tree commemorating King Charles's visit in 1939). As I was biking to the park one crisp October morning, I was taken aback by so much visual stimuli at once, I immediately hopped off my bike, dropped it on the dirt with a thud, and wandered over to the trees. Honestly, I can't remember if I jogged over in sheer impatience to see the trees up close, or if I was so taken that, eyes glued on the trees, I ambled over in a complete awe-stricken daze.

One tree was in peak foliage: a stark golden orange, the other a lighter, butter-yellow, both striking in color and height. The sheer grandiosity of the pair, their contrast in color, and the variety of leaf color in each tree drew me in. The beautiful color spectrum of nature makes me believe the human language is lacking in color-descriptive words.

After approaching the golden-orange tree from the parking lot, I wandered over to the other side of the tree and stepped back so I could see it in full view. I stood there for about ten minutes, then ducked under the tree and looked straight upward at its branches for another ten minutes. After, I walked over to both the east and west sides to drink it in its vision from all perspectives. I wasn't worried about my bike or about anything else in the world for a period of about 45 minutes. It was one of the most meditative experiences of my life - I was completely hypnotised by the rustling of leaves in the wind, standing under them, observing how each breath of wind could completely alter the color of the leaves as the sun spilled through from different angles, a living prism. Its amber arms seized me - like how a spider's web ensnares its prey, I was paralyzed by its fiery branches. I was so enraptured, didn't even think to take a picture.

After having a similar hypnotic, spiritual, overpowering experience with its yellow-leaved twin, I decided I should continue on with my bike ride through the park. I realized that I didn't even take off my helmet during this entire experience. As I approached my bike, I glanced up to find a middle-aged couple making eye contact with me.

"Hi there, well ..we were just observing you, and we find it so nice to see someone truly appreciate trees. There are few of you left these days," the man stated, smiling.

I was so happy to hear it, but also totally unaware I was being observed myself.

We went on to have a great conversation about the beauty of the trees. The couple used to live in the area when they were recently married, and were admirers of this pair. Having since moved away, they make the trip back every autumn in peak season to see the two trees in all their glory. It's amazing how nature bonds humanity, and even more wonderful how it can keep drawing you back to it. This couple has an established relationship with these trees, which I adore.

Here comes the funny part of the story.

After I felt fulfilled enough to part from the trees in Fort Hunt Park, I biked around the surrounding neighborhood and visited another tree that had made an impression on me last fall. As I recalled from the previous autumn, it was a stunning symphony of orange and yellow. I hopped off my bike to get closer to the tree, and stood peering up at it, admiring from different angles, once again, for a good five minutes.

A man came walking by with his dog, and said concernedly,

"Hey there, are you okay?"

In that moment, my bubble burst.

"Yeah, I'm good, just admiring the tree! It's a nice one," I stammered.

He nodded and kept on walking.

Evidently, not everyone is so enraptured by trees these days. It was obvious the man thought I had some kind of incapacity, as I was ambling around aimlessly, admiring the tree with my head craned. I smiled as I boarded my bike - humanity is definitely a spectrum as well.

I don't know if I will ever marvel more at anything in the natural world besides another tree. I went back to visit the pair of trees frequently the past autumn season, at different times of the day. It was intoxicating to see how the light dances through the leaves during golden hour, or how on a dreary day the leaves seem to be even more starkly vibrant in contrast to the clouds. Even when the leaves fell, the stunning blanket that formed beneath the tree was worth marvelling at. I was definitely compelled to hug these trees, as the cliché goes.

It is a wonder how a tree knows no age, has no spoken language, yet is an allegorical communicator from whom we have lots to learn.