Planting a tree is almost like adopting a child – it brings joy. It’s something every writer should do.
Last week I bought eight beautiful thuja trees. We planted six of them outside our new fence.
Ever since, I’ve been checking on them daily for any signs of unwellness.
I overcame my social anxiety and went out to water them with a hose.
Each time I look at them, a sense of camlness and quiet delight comes over me.
They are about as tall as me. The fresh green that they wear is my new favorite color. Their young branches tickle the air and reach out for the sunlight.
I watch them through the window, and I watch them each time I go into the garden. When I go for a walk, I greet them with my silent attention.
Planting a tree is not easy. A large hole must be dug. Gravel must be laid at the bottom of the hole, to keep the moisture near the roots. The tree mush be lifted from its pot and carefully placed in the hole. It takes at least two to plant a tree well, even if it’s only a small tree. That is another wonderful thing about planting a tree — it’s an act of solidarity.
After you plant a tree, you have to water it. Not just once, but regularly.
You have to give it fertilizer, if you want it to grow strong.
You have to clean it and trim its branches, if you want it to look its best.
You even have to pray for rain when the water company cuts off your supply.
When we writers plant a tree, we give something back to the soil. Think of all those pages that we use up during our lifetime. If our stories get published, it’s even worse — whole families of trees may have to suffer for our inspiration.
A tree that needed years to grow can be cut in just five minutes. Many felled trees end up as books. When a tree becomes a book, maybe it attains its own kind of immortality.
Still, the more trees we plant, the better.
Make the world a little greener, make it a littler fresher, make it a little better. Plant a tree. Anywhere, anytime, any way you can.
Have you ever planted a tree?