Genus Arboretum
Chris Stevens
Episode 4.25, "Old
Tree"
What is it about
genus arboretum that socks us in the
figurative solar plexus? We see a logging
truck go cruising down the road, stacked
with a bunch of those fresh-cut giants, we
feel like we’ve lost a brother. Next thing
you know, we're in The Brick, we're flopping
money down on the bar: wood. We're under a
roof: wood. We're walking the floors: wood.
Grabbing a pool cue: that’s wood. Our
friends in the forest carry a set of luggage
from the mythical baggage carousel: tree of
life, tree of knowledge, family tree,
Budda's Bodhi tree. Page one of life, in the
beginning, Genesis 3:22. Adam and Eve,
they’re kicking back in the garden of Eden
and boom, they get an eviction notice. Why
is that? "Lest they should take also of the
tree of life, eat, and live forever." A
definitive Yahweh no-no. Be good to yourself
Cicely: go out and plant a wet one on a
tree.
The trees indeed have
hearts. With a certain affection the sun
seems to send its farewell ray far and
level over the copses to them, and they
silently receive it with gratitude, like
a group of settlers with their children.
The pines impress me as human. A slight
vaporous cloud floats high over them,
while in the west the sun goes down
apace behind glowing pines, and golden
clouds like mountains skirt the horizon.
Nobody can turn a
phrase like old Hank Thoreau, huh? More from
him in a minute.
Hooee, Cicily. This is
Chris on KBHR, continuing today’s arbor
theme program live and on the scene with Old
Vicky herself. Let’s keep on trucking with
the most famous resident of Walden Pond,
this selection from The Maine Woods:
I have been into the
lumber-yard, and the carpenter’s shop,
and the tannery, and the
lampblack-factory, and the turpentine
clearing; but when at length I saw the
tops of the pines waving and reflecting
the light at a distance high over all
the rest of the forest…
[Chris reads from
Henry David Thoreau] |
