Beautiful, real, and
yes, I admit, at times harsh. Such is life on a homestead. I don’t think
any of us would trade it or plan to give it up, would we?
Last night the wind
blew a fury around the mountain. Several times I awoke with a start to
check on the Old Grandfather Tree. The old spruce tree that my
husband’s grandfather used to
use to hang his saddle from, on one
of the lower branches. It’s the largest tree on our ranch, a big old Blue
Spruce, gnarly from years of being used as a natural firewood storage shed
and fence corner post. Up in this tree, our son built himself a tree
house years ago, far too high for me to visit. Foals have slept under the
shade of the tree in spring, and many a picnic under there in the summer.
But now, the old tree
is leaning and on its way down. Perhaps it’s the beetles. Or the
drought. Or perhaps it’s just time, old age. It is tired. With a clear
path in which to fall, we are letting the old tree live out his life to
the fullest, and enjoying having the tree there next to us for as long as
possible. Holding up the fence. Shading the wood pile.
Today, the wind has
calmed, and the gentle snow softly tickles the branches of Grandfather
Tree, and all others throughout the mountain. Perhaps it is the last of
the spring snows.
I
sit here in my cozy log cabin by my wood stove, and my thoughts turn once
again toward the trees… the trees that provided for us to build our home,
warm our cabin, fuel our cook stove, give us material for our fence, shade
from the sun, protection from the wind… these are the trees from our
land. How much I have to be grateful for, not the least of which is
admiration of their beauty, now stark and grey and softly dusted with
white in the pencil drawn landscape of this late spring storm. The trees
and I both await the leaves that soon will be emerging.
I’m not necessarily a
tree hugger. But I confess I have hugged a tree or two. I value them.
And well I should. They are valuable! But I also use my trees. First
of all, for building. We live in a log cabin. We harvested our own logs.
From the trees on our property, we have fuel. Living at 10,000 feet
elevation as we do, and relying on a wood stove for heat, we go through a
fair amount of fire wood. And with that, our home is cozy and warm, even
when the outside temperatures fall to 20, 30 or even 40 below zero. Every
breakfast is cooked on the old fashioned cook stove, which also is reliant
on our wood source. Our trees provide shelter, shade, wind brake,
privacy… and yes, beauty.
But I confess, no
fruit. Not up at this elevation. Try as I may (and I have for years), I
can’t keep a fruit tree alive, let alone producing, when we’re lucky to
have 5 or 6 weeks of frost-free “growing season” on a good year. So for
those of you living in lower elevations, as most folks are, don’t forget
the fruit trees!
In any case, we sure
value our trees. Rightfully so. Man has relied on trees since the day of
fire. Today, those who live along the river bottoms and find shade under
the still thriving giant trees planted well over a hundred years ago, or
who wander in the fields and pick the old fruit from the still producing
old hardwood tree, or are lucky enough to move to a place loved and cared
for enough where a full orchard or windbreak or woodlot has been planted
and tended, we are reminded of the importance of trees, and the integral
part of trees in the life of the homestead.
And yet, today we see
subdivision after subdivision going in, without consideration for the
value of trees. Did they forget? There are guest ranches near by here,
and as they were not “homesteads” the value of planting trees was never
considered. 80 years or so later, those cabins still stick out like sore
thumbs. Imagine if they had planted one tree a year, even if just for the
first 20 years or so. Instead, they send a message to the rest of us as we
pass by: We take from the land. We don’t give back. That is not the
message I wish to send.
I am a homesteader,
and in the pride of that name, I plant trees. I live simple, strive to
live off the land, and care for my land and my mountain. I take what I
need, and give back all I can. I can plant trees. I can prove my
commitment to the land and mountain, and to my son and the future
generations coming here after me.
Planting trees will
not break the bank, I can pretty much promise you this. Money should not
be an excuse. Consider your options, and budget accordingly. Our state
Forest Service has a good deal on 2-3 year old native trees. For $50, you
can purchase 30. I know it’s going to take a while for them to grow into
something I can use, but that’s all part of our woodlot management plan.
