Trees

Posted by carol.fletcher@rocketmail.com
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I love trees.

Cedars, oaks, redwoods, sequoias, catalpas, sycamores, pines, firs, poplars, aspens, birches, willows…I love them all…each and every one. Giant old trees and ambitious saplings. Trees planted in front of a front door, and those standing guard at corners or lining the roads like sentinels. I love to see forests growing wild in interstate medians.

Tree branches. Film double exposure.
Tree branches. Film double exposure.

 

Favorites.

I greet favorite characters along my route, marveling as bright leaves unfold in Spring, then color and drop in Autumn, and admiring the trees’ bones in Winter. I wonder what the neighborhood trees talk about high above our houses, chatting in the breeze.

Forests thrill and inspire me. The coastal redwoods are as close to heaven as I can imagine. Like museums or landmarks, trees and forests are on my wish list of places to see.

I’ve yet to see the Amazon rainforest. And it is increasingly likely I never will.

Missing trees.

The sound of a chainsaw makes me nervous and angry. The sight of branches and giant trunks split and piled high for the chipper makes me sick at my stomach. I imagine the pieces are still dying, the neighboring trees still whispering to the woodpile, saying goodbye.

Of course, I notice missing trees. Each time I pass, I remember and mourn the missing ones like friends, acknowledging the empty space in the ground, in the sky. I lost one this week. It’s a long story, for another time.

Big old neighborhood oak.
Ancient Bur Oak tree. There are four of these old oaks in one Chicago block. The trees were recently threatened by an elementary school expansion project. The neighborhood rallied to protect the trees. For now, they are safe. The annex builders did, however, destroy many younger trees in the easement in order to put up construction fences and to bring in heavy equipment.  

 

I’ve just started reading a book called “The Last Forest” by London and Kelly. I’m already sad. For someone who cried through “The Lorax” by Dr. Seuss and “Barkskins” by Proulx, this non-fiction book will be harder given the recent news of fires in the Amazon and Siberia. Already, I’m anxious.

Waste not, want not.

I wish to be part of a civilization that respects trees and the earth, that repurposes and reuses instead of wasting and throwing out the old in favor of “progress”. Resources are not infinite. Infinite growth of profit and population is not sustainable. We must stop. We must stop taking trees and forests from earth and the animals.

What will I do to save the world’s trees? Use less paper, buy products with less packaging, protect land when it is threatened by developers, and plant trees. What else can I do? What will you do?

The reddest of a red maple. Autumn leaves.
The reddest of a red maple. Autumn leaves.
The last of the canopy. Leaves.
The last of the canopy. Leaves.

 

Thank you for reading

Photos in this post were taken with a film point-and-shoot camera on a sad day in 2012. The trees brought me indescribable comfort that day, and really…always. Select photos are available on Etsy.

Finally, if you liked this post and would like to stay in touch, please…

 

Carol Fletcher is a traveling, tree-hugging, dog-loving, coffee-addicted, Nashville born-and-raised photographer living in Chicago. To see more photo essays and projects, please visit www.carolfletcher.com.