The Worth of a Tree

The old pine stood near the shore of a wilderness lake. It was old even as pines go in this country, perhaps 300, even 350 years old. It was gnarled and twisted, showed punk knots further up and the scars of fire at the base, but the foliage was heavy and fine and the wind murmurred through its branches and the kinglets and chickadees found refuge there.

"No place for a tree like that in a growing forest," said the man. "Old trees like that are over ripe, and should be cut to make room for young stuff underneath. Even the seeds are not as good as they should be, and the decay inside--did you notice? It must be a veritable nest for fungus and beetles and borers of all kinds. This sort of tree is dangerous. It ought to come out. People don't get any more pleasure out of such a tree than a bunch of healthy saplings.

"This is what we call improvement of shoreline timber," he added, and with his axe he cut a clean white chip to mark it for the logger's saw.

I tried to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. I tried to tell him that this tree was worth far more just as a landmark than as timber, even though the punk was eating out its heart and it was marked by fire and furnished a breeding place for fungus and grubs. I tried to say that trees centuries old had a value far greater than anyone could possibly estimate, but my arguments seemed empty and weak against the scientific viewpoint of my friend. I was merely old-fashioned and sentimental about these things and knew nothing about modern forestry practices.

I went away saddened by what I had heard, but knew that there were many others who felt as I, who valued a tree not by what it might bring on the market, or what its effect might be on surrounding growth, but rather by their feelings toward it and the associations they had made; that certain trees have an emotional value far in excess of any other consideration.

And knowing that I was not alone I was glad, because I knew that some day and soon, people who loved trees and understood them would make themselves heard, that someday a great shout would go across the land to save forever these ancient landmarks which through many generations have woven themselves into the life of a countryside and into the hearts ot those who have known them.