Last week on one of the Boquet Mountain trails I saw a magnificent tree–a white pine. It is nearly 14 feet in diameter and surrounded by branches that whorl their way up like a spiral staircase. The lowest branch is stout and sturdy, barely more than 18″ from the ground. It spreads horizontally, the sign that it grew unencumbered by competitors. It makes me wonder how many years it has witnessed and who of the local hunters, hikers, birds and beasts have noticed it.
In my yard outside the window there is another huge white pine that has been growing in the village all the while the other was in the woods. It has survived a hurricane, a severe microburst and countless wind storms since I have lived here. It seems to guard my yard and my house.