Trees of Life

 

Thirty-nine years ago, Don and I went up to Glen Tanar and bought thirty trees to plant along the driveway and round the perimeter of the garden. We took a selection: wild cherry, Norwegian maple, Chinese rowan, sycamore, beech, elm, poplar. The tree centre gave us fifty larch saplings for free.

We came back. I was a few weeks’ pregnant with Robbie, which was a great excuse not to do the heavy digging work. I had the easy task of steadying each sapling in place while Don dug the holes and filled them in again.

The drive is stony. It is full of weeds. Digging holes required a pickaxe. We knew nothing about soil types. We never looked up to see what overhead wires might be threatened as these trees grew.

During the intervening years, the poplar grew so fast and broke off in the wind a few times: it’s now been taken down by an expert, burned in the fireplace. The leylandii is about to meet the same fate. Forty-seven of the fifty larch never made it out of infancy. The cherry trees have been re-seeded many times by hungry birds, who helpfully pooped out the stones in lines underneath the power and telephone lines.

Some of the trees on the drive have thrived; some have struggled in their shadows. We were young and enthusiastic, and we knew nothing about what trees need, and how high they could be expected to grow. Some knowledge and advice would have been a good idea.

I am reading and hearing many things these days, these days which are so full of global, life-changing and often heart-breaking news. I ask that the news that brings life will take root in my heart, will flourish and grow in my life and offer shelter and encouragement to others. I pray that the news which brings death will wither and die, that it will find no fertile soil in my heart nor mind nor on my lips. May God feed me with his word and water me with his love so that the leaves he sprouts can bring healing and wholeness.

The season of waiting and watching continues. May we all watch in hope and wait in peace today and always.