Ohhh, THE trees. That does sound interesting. Maybe Newt will go into more detail tomorrow. It might be important.

I typically like trees.  I would definitely not consider myself a tree-hugger, but I have lots of memories having to do with trees. When I was very young, we lived in South Florida, where there were mostly palm trees, cacti and some scraggly pines. In our backyard there was an orange tree, which grew low to the ground, and a rubber tree that had some climbability. My first attempt at human flight was launched from that rubber tree, and ended abruptly directly beneath it.

We moved to North Carolina when I was 7, and there I was introduced to great oaks and maples and gum trees that offered wonderful canopies and much more challenging climbing feats. They were sturdy enough to construct forts and platforms in, and also seemingly fragile enough to be toppled by hurricane-force winds. Their annual hue change and subsequent shedding marked my favorite season of the year. I often found refuge in the bow of an enormous oak that no longer towers over my parents’ house from the backyard.

Similar foliage greeted me in Ohio during my college years and still later when I moved to Tennessee. My summer of 2001 was spent in the desert of the Yakima Indian Reservation in Washington state. There the trees were sparse and grew in sporadic clumps where there was just enough water to support them. The water had to be irrigated from the melting Cascade Mountains’ snow, and it traveled purposefully through the dusty plains to saturate the rich volcanic soil that produced apples, cherries, apricots and other fruit trees and vegetable plants.

But my favorite arbors would have to be the lush evergreens that prosper on the other side of those mountains. From Northern California through British Columbia, their needles seem to freshen and cool the air. And if you’ve ever stood in a redwood forest, you can almost understand how and why Bigfoot hides out there so successfully.

Currently, the trees that shade our home in Memphis also cause some inconvenience. The black walnut trees drop racquetball-sized pods, leaving dents in our vehicles and even broken window panes in our house. Another ancient hardwood dropped an enormous branch on our A/C unit last year. Combined, they do not let in enough light or rain to allow the grass to grow in the yard in the summer, and they continually drop dead leaves from October to February. Year-round, a mysterious sticky substance coats our cars and anything else that is left outside overnight; I can only suspect los ‘arboles.

The Bible makes frequent references to trees, starting in the first chapter of Genesis and going all the way through to the last chapter of Revelation. In fact, both books mention one of the same trees! I don’t want to give too much away, but it’s pretty cool and you should check Gen. 2 and Rev. 22 for yourself.