Choices

Okay, I know...this may be more than some of you can stand in the way of tree love. It may confirm your fears that I'm going to walk out into the woods someday, never to be seen again.

It's possible, but...

There's a fact about trees that I find to be so poignant that it almost brings me to tears. It makes me want to run outside and hug all of those big, brave trees and even plant a few kisses on them, too.

It's a fact about trees that one of my Horticulture professors tossed out on a "field walk" one day as if it were just a random, trivial thing and it struck me like a lead pipe. It's like having a crush on someone and then learning something about them that throws you right over the edge into love.

It was the factoid that made me fall in love. With trees.

It goes like this: When a tree realizes that it's dying, it will choose to do one of two things.

In a last-ditch attempt to grab life and not let it go, the tree will throw every last ounce of energy and life it has into putting out a flourish of new growth. It makes as many leaves as it possibly can, soaking up as much sun as it possibly can, and photosynthesizing as much as it possibly can. The tree doesn't waste it's energy producing fruit. It is focused only on itself and its own survival.

....or...

The tree will desperately attempt to reproduce before dying by putting out an extraordinary amount of fruit (berries, apples, pine cones, etc.) It's a final and desperately sad attempt to carry out its reproductive mission when it knows it's going to die.

You see, it will decide either to save itself or its offspring, making trees seem almost human and almost as if they have a thought process. It seems as if they don't just accept death as a part of the natural cycle, much as we humans don't.

It appears that, when faced with a tough reality, trees get desperate, too.

And, for those of you still with me ... how, exactly, does the tree decide which option to choose? Don't you want to ask one?

In our front yard there is a beautiful crab apple tree that's vase-shaped canopy covers our front porch perfectly. That's a picture of it taken last fall. It's like having an umbrella over our favorite evening perch. Its branches reach up to the second story, making our bedroom feel like it's nestled in a tree house. It's the best tree in the world.

And it's dying.

I've been watching it to see which option it will choose, and tonight I noticed it's branches loaded down with fruit.

A bittersweet swan song.