Ancient elders

This posting is a bit late, but its purpose is to embrace Earth Day and every day by recognizing our elders.  Our seniors do, for the most part, deserve recognition and respect. We have a wealth of experience and knowledge not yet accumulated by the younger generations. Why reinvent something and go through those trials of error when out of respect of those of us who have survived the years, if asked, could provide guidance to avoid many pitfalls and a bit of enlightenment. Our stories were once the fabric of traditions, words of wisdom, guides to avoid the pitfalls on the road to a meaningful life. There is much more to these standing relics than the appearance as gray-haired hulks of impediments to progress. We are an integral part of life’s community as are the elders I really wanted to honor on Saturday, April 22, 2023, Earth Day, the old growth trees, the Ancient Elders still standing majestically in the forests we so enjoy.

It is a rare person who can stand beside an ancient tree and not be humbled. Myself, I find that the need to reach out and lay hands on the gnarly bark is strong. My gaze upwards through twisted limbs is one of awe. I have been called a tree hugger and it is a badge I wear proudly. I respect the majestic creature before me as an elder member of the natural community. It has stories to share if only we spoke its language. Those not moved by love and respect of an ancient elder are usually the people who can cut down the majestic giants for the lumber they yield and move on without remorse. Aldo Leopold once said, “The last word in ignorance is that of a man who says of an animal or plant, what good is it?” It is commodity over community. It is demeaning the meaning of a 2000-year-old living being into change clinking in the pocket of an avaricious and heartless person. It is ignoring the importance of that one tree to the entire ecology that has evolved around it. When the one tree becomes whole forests lost, then the magnitude of loss to the planet is staggering. It isn’t just one tree gone; it is a beacon of habitat extinguished. The nurturer of life in that ecological setting has become dollar bills and left a living, thriving community to flounder. This is akin to a news reporter referring to damage from a forest fire and saying, “No lives were lost.” No lives were lost?  What about the 1000’s of trees and all the understory and life that called that place home? Many didn’t escape the flames and smoke.

The same nonchalance towards life gives blinders to the person who can cut down a 2000-year-old tree and not be concerned or even aware of all the other lives they just threw into chaos and despair. Take the battery out of your phone and see how well it works. Unplug your refrigerator. How long was it before you realized that that might not have been a good idea. Aldo Leopold said, “If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good whether we understand it or not. To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent thinking.”

Now near our town of Kingston, by a beautiful spring, lives an Ancient elder I call Liberty Pine. It is an old growth Ponderosa Pine, probably over 300 years young, that towers over the surrounding trees. Its thick, puzzle-piece bark wraps a trunk that is close to four foot in diameter. When the wind is blowing, which as Kingstonians know is quite often, Liberty Pine has a song it sings. The song is very unique and rather mesmerizing, as one realizes when they pause, still themselves and really listen to its voice. The huge limbs until recently were nighttime roosts for wild turkeys. I never realized how high or how well a turkey could fly until I watched a flock of ten dart through the woods and land high in the pine. Morning always revealed a few beautiful feathers that had fallen to the ground during the night.

Yesterday I paused as I always do, laid my hands on the thick, contoured bark, closed my eyes, and listened. The breeze was slight but still the tree sang in its quiet lulling voice. I burrowed my nose in between two cinnamon colored bark plates and slowly inhaled. Now this is best done when the sun has had a chance to warm the bark a bit. What greeted my nose was a strong scent of butterscotch. Some days it reminds me of vanilla, a good strong Mexican vanilla but this day’s experience was all butterscotch.

As I stood beside this majestic creature, my hands softly touching, I gazed up through the brawny branches. We had noticed its needles thinning over the last few years, but it seems the 30+ inches of last year’s precipitation gave it a burst of new growth. It is still thin though at the top, a condition that this elder can sympathize with. As I gaze up through the branches, I thank the elder for the wisdom and knowledge it has gathered over the centuries. I only wish as I often do with my dogs, that I spoke the same language. What stories would that tree tell I wonder. What wisdom would it share. What storms have pummeled its branches? What life had passed underneath or safely spent the night nestled on a big branch?

If you pause to look intently at the world around you, really look and wonder, you just might be late for a meeting. The importance of our bigger and better society laden with material goods pales in comparison. We discard our daily trappings as worthless baggage that has served its momentary purpose and has no more use. How trivial it all seems when you are in the presence of an Ancient Elder.

If one looks in earnest, an old gnarly tree is usually to be found in every forest. As with our older population, please pause to take notice and offer respect for the journey they have traveled. As I pick up trash on the roadsides, discarded with reckless abandon through car windows, I wonder if that person will recall anything from that trip other than the smell of gas and a quick burger. Did the ancient trees surrounded by youthful forest cladding steep mountainsides pique their interest for even a moment? Did the coyote loping across the pavement and dashing down the slope, bring a moment of wonder to their minds? Will they tell the story, or will they be merely focused on arriving at their destination?

A little thing but a mighty thing it is, this pausing to acknowledge an elder and offer your utmost respect. You may not know their stories, but they are there to be heard by a starry-eyed youngster or a sleepy tom turkey nestled tight with his companions. If we take care of our communities, all members, young and old, they will thrive and supply many cherished memories. Tell your stories to those around you and respect the stories others have to share for they are as important as yours.

Enjoy!