The Story of the Tangled Tree
One spring, in the forest, a small pine cone started to sprout. At first just a tiny sliver of green could be seen peeking through the ground. The sprig grew taller and taller. By summer our tree had sprouted its first two branches.
All that summer our tree drank the fresh mountain water from the springs and the rain. It ate the minerals from the mountain soil. It basked in the warm sunshine and breathed the fresh air from the mountain sky. From all these things it made more and more tree as it grew and grew. That first summer our tree grew straight as an arrow up from the ground until it was as tall as the deer fawns that nibbled the grass around its base.
In the fall, as the rest of the grown trees dropped their pine cones, our little tree shivered in the cold mountain winds. The snow began to fall. It snowed and snowed. By the time winter came, our tree was half buried in snow. Occasionally the sun would come out and warm the top part of our tree but the bottom half was cold all day long. Then it snowed and snowed and snowed some more until our tree was completely buried in the deep drifting snow of the high Rocky Mountain winter. Our tree decided it might as well go to sleep since it was completely covered in snow anyway.
One morning the sun was a little warmer than usual. The gophers were burrowing around their snow tunnels a little faster than usual. The snow melted until the tip top of our tree came back out into the sunlight. Our tree woke up. It was so happy to be warmed by the sun. It sent a message to all its needles that spring was here. The snow melted and melted until the whole tree was back out in the sun just like the spring before when it was first born.
That second summer our tree took the mountain water from the melting snow, the minerals from the mountain soil, and the sunshine and air from the mountain sky. It turned all these things into more and more tree. It grew and grew until it was much taller than any of the deer in the forest. It grew straight as an arrow up its roots anchored firmly in the ground. More and more branches were added until it became quite full, quite green, and quite nicely shaped like a perfect Christmas tree.
Our tree knew what to expect when the cold winds started to blow in the fall. It snowed and snowed and covered up the bottom half of our tree. Our tree was still too young to have pine cones but it noticed that the pine cones of the older trees were lying on the freshly fallen snow. As winter came, it snowed and snowed and snowed some more and buried most of our tree. However, no matter how much it snowed, it didn’t bury the entire tree. Our tree stayed awake through the winter and took the little bit of sunlight that would peek through the clouds and used it to keep warm.
When the spring came this year, our tree knew that something was different. As it took in sunshine and air through its needles, melting snow and minerals through its roots, it grew and grew. Tiny purple buds grew on its top. In our trees third summer, the tiny buds grew bigger and bigger and became pine cones. The sun would shine and our tree would grow and grow. The pine cones would ripen and ripen and ripen.
In the fall when the thunder would clang from the mountains and roll through the valleys, the lightning would hit the tops of the tallest trees. Our little tree was frightened as it saw trees split with the crash of lightning and thunder. Not being one of the taller trees it felt rather safe. As the cold winds blew, the ripe pine cones fell off of our tree. The snow began to pile up at the bottom of our tree. Before long our tree was half buried in the snow. This was the worst winter we’d seen in the mountains for years. It snowed all day and all night and the next day it would snow some more. It seemed like spring would never come. Finally, as it always does, it did.
The flowers were watered by the melting snow. The yellows of the buttercups, the purples and whites of the crocus, the blues of the columbines, the reds of the Indian paintbrush splashed the mountains with their color. Our tree had more light greenish gray buds on its branches than ever. Its pine cones on top were as purple as purple can be.
The cold winds would blow every fall, making our tree shiver, knocking the pine cones down. The deep snow would bury the bottom branches every winter. The melting snow would water our tree and the wildflowers each spring. The bright sunshine would glisten off the needles of our tree every summer. Our tree grew to be one of the tallest trees in the forest after many years.
CRASH! The lightning struck and split the top of our tree in half, right down the middle of its trunk. Our poor tree didn’t know what to do. It sent sap up from its roots to the wound. The sap seeped from the wound like an animal might bleed. The sap dried like a scab to protect the soft inner parts of the tree. As the sun dried the sap, our tree began to heal. There was no way that our tree would ever be the same again. There was no way it could take the two parts of its top and bring them back together. They had been severed forever.
But still, our little tree was going to survive. Never again would it grow straight up from the ground like an arrow. The two halves of our tree started to wrap around each other as they healed. They turned more and more as our tree started to grow again. By the time fall came, the wound was closed. No more sap was seeping from the trunk. Where it had been charred and singed by the hot flash of lightning, the trunk was twisting around itself. The branches were starting to tangle.
That winter was very mild and the snow covered only a few branches of our tree. This was fortunate as our tree used the sunlight that peeked through the clouds to continue to heal itself. As spring came, our tree began to grow faster and faster. The trunk twisted more and more. The branches became entangled with each other. You could hardly tell if it was a tree or a bush or just a mass of branches going every which way. There were very few pine cones on our tree anymore but at the top of one of the halves grew one very purple pine cone. It ripened and ripened as the summer sun shined. Our tree was almost choking itself as its trunk twisted tighter and tighter. This confusion was starting to make our tree worry.
That fall the one pine cone on top of our tree fell onto some very fertile soil. It was covered in the soil pushed along by the mountain stream, buried deeper and deeper.
There was a sound in the forest that fall that had never been heard there before. It was a very loud sound. It was a very mechanical sound. To a tree it was a very frightening sound. It went something like, “BRRRRRRRRRRM!” Our tree didn’t know it but this was the sound of a chain saw. There were lumberjacks in the forest cutting down the tangled and sick trees so that the straight and healthy trees could grow higher and higher in their places. When the lumberjacks came to our twisted tree, they started up their chain saws, “BRRRRRRRRRRM!” They cut down our tree. SLAP! It hit the ground. The lumberjacks stripped all the branches off our tree. They split the trunk from where the lightning had hit it clear through to the bottom. They chained the wood up to large horses. The horses dragged the tree out of the forest to the lumber mill. There it was turned into lumber to build houses.
Well, you might think that this is a sad story. Have you forgotten about our tree’s pine cone buried in the soil? The next spring, the sun shined, water from the melting snow seeped into the ground, and minerals from the soil seeped into our purple pine cone. It felt the warmth of spring. You guessed it! A small green shoot started up to the surface not far from where our tangled tree used to stand. Before long a small sliver of green could be seen growing straight up like an arrow to the sky. As summer came, our new tree grew taller and put out its first two branches.
So you see, our story of the tangled tree is not a sad story after all. And besides, the wood in your very own home might just be from our tangled tree.
The Tangled Tree by C. Walker ©03