Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Today the giant gum that has stood majestically in my parents’ yard through my childhood, teen years and adult days, fell to her knees and is nothing but logs, mulch and saw dust.

All 30 metres of this fifty-year-old gum was cut branch by branch until all that remained was a gaping hole. Unfortunately the tree had died with the droughts of recent years and was a danger to children who played underneath. A permit had to be obtained, as did neighbour approval and six months later the old tree is gone forever.

It shares the secrets of my childhood when we swung on the old swing, looked for spiders in her bark, had a picnic in her shade or hid Easter eggs in her roots. I feel a little nostalgic and can’t believe that this once unmovable species is merely fuel.

It reminds me of a story I read many years ago. A boy was friends with a tree. He swung in its branches, played in the shade and made boats with its bark. As he got older he picked its apples and engraved heartfelt messages on the trunk. As an adult he had less time for his tree friend but needed wood to build a home and branches for the fire, so he cut them off his tree.

The man returned to the tree as a sad and lonely old man. He had squandered his money and lost his home and possessions.

The boy said to the tree I have eaten your fruit, cut down your branches and sawed off your trunk. You are useless to me.

I am sorry dear friend said the tree but you can sit and rest on my stump.

My Mum and Dad are like the tree. Dad is forever cooking extra meals or dividing his own ingredients and Mum saves articles out of the newspaper that may be relevant to the kids or me. They are always giving away in the spirit of parenthood and never expecting back.

Even as the old tree was being massacred by a chainsaw, Dad offered me firewood and a cup of tea in one breath.

I like this old tree story and for the life of me I can’t remember where I read it or who wrote it. It makes me think of the driftwood in my life that means nothing and all the stumps that are there solid, giving and listening to my cares.