Trees are fountains. They spill into the sky in perfect forms. They can take a hundred gallons of water from the ground in a single hour and send it up their trunks out their graceful branches. Through the stoma on a giant crown of leaves they transpire the water vapor out into the sky. It returns as rain and cycles again through this perfectly refined system. 

Fountains, however, are fleeting; every gesture lasts only a split second. Millions of movements piled atop each other create the form - a trick of the eye. Trees, on the other hand, fabricate a solid three dimensional record of every year’s performance. Maybe trees are both fountains and shadows of fountains. Every tree’s genius DNA collaborates with the sun to 3D print these majestic forms. If we could freeze a fountain it would be a glassy Elm tree. Trees are spilling upward and outward in sub-slow motion. Tree time is long and slow, meant for sloths and moss, difficult for humans to comprehend. We can learn so much about patience, forbearance, groundedness, stillness, strength and flexibility from the trees around us.

“A tree is a marvelous architectural victory over gravity.” I just read that sentence. It lives in A Sanctuary of Trees, by Gene Logsdon. He also refers to trees as living umbrellas that save the Earth from destruction. The recent documentary Kiss the Ground is also a beautiful and plain illustration of this obvious truth - trees shelter and feed the Earth, trees are the Earth. Trees create and sustain soil. Without trees we become a rocky lifeless planet. We are creating deserts in places where we have denuded the landscape and exposed the Earth’s soil to direct sunlight. We see this happen all over the planet in places that we have over harvested and clear cut the forest.  We don’t sit around waiting for the desert that comes in the absence of the trees we have plundered, we build the deserts ourselves. We call them lawns, malls, parking lots, and freeways.

We practice tree suppression and tree prevention. We call it mowing and paving. We all know the extreme contrast between standing on a blacktop parking lot and standing under a giant shade tree on the same July afternoon. It only takes a hundred square feet to demonstrate what we have done to so much of the planet. We need trees. And we don’t even need to plant them - they spring up and express themselves everywhere we allow. It is painful to say that and concede that we are the keepers of the planet - we end up being the ones who decide what species will be and which will not. This is what we have signed up for and so we ought to take the responsibility very seriously. We have created a giant mess for all species, including ourselves. With all, and in spite of all, the knowledge and power that we wield it is time to humble ourselves before the trees and this wonderful system we are privileged to live in. Trees are fountains of life. If we simply stop the tree suppression we will have forests everywhere.

Trees are also fountains of carbon. This is especially apparent when they release their leaves back to the Earth’s surface like giant snowflakes. This process is taking place right before our eyes. I have always thought of leaves as coming off primarily in wind storms and weather events, one by one. However, camping on a recent November weekend Kinga and I noticed as quiet flushes of Oak leaves dropped by the hundreds in the still of the afternoon. A Red Oak over our tent gave us a spontaneous leaf shower, then ten minutes later a White Oak off in the woods. This leisurely quiet symphony amplified the presence of the trees as beings. It was like, oh there’s somebody there. Seeing the trees around us deciding to simultaneously drop a hundred leaves calls on me to recognize their being. I feel like the trees were having fun with us. Right when we thought we were most alone we discovered that we were surrounded by others. What a joy to receive word from the trees.

We, of course, participate in the building of these majestic fountains - they contain our breath. We contain their breath. This is one of the reasons that we like to get out into the trees. This reciprocity is so much more immediate when we are out there breathing with the trees. 

Fall color is a real gateway love. It is one of the first reasons many of us learn to love trees. Tree people and those who do not yet know they are tree people alike, wait for these sweater days when we are enveloped in color.

2020 Foot Path over the mound of clover, on the way to Field Temple across the street. Shagbark Hickory yellowing beyond the Red Maples.

Trees in the fall are soulful fireworks. Unlike cheap, common fireworks they are a celebration that is universal, one that connects us to our true mother, nature. They touch us so deeply, first, because of their sheer magnitude. We are not talking cheap garish blasts in the sky here; we’re talking about whole forests filling latitudes with reds, oranges, yellows, and rusts as far as the eye can see. And we don’t just buy them when we want and blow them off when we want. There will be no obnoxious blasts that leave them screaming for another and another. We wait patiently, anxiously, expectantly through the year for them to arrive on their own time to unfold slowly across the landscape. These fireworks suspend time, and for a change we are asking time to slow down. We want fall to last long like memories.

Best of all, they flush into radiance in complete silence. It’s a miracle every time- soulful, not surface. They reach us so deeply and incomparably. They will never wake your baby or scare your dog. They do not intrude on everyone else’s night, or morning for that matter. Silence seems so underrated these days.

Paper Birches and Native Wildflowers in Treetroit 1 - a couple of boulders peeking through

It’s also true that we can, but don’t have to, visit the forest to witness it. We bring the forest to our own gardens and front yards. We set these stages for the annual pageant. I added a few more scarlet Oaks and Sugar Maples near enough to the house to delight me all day.

Fall color is free, and we all have a front row seat. It’s the height of nature, accessible to all without really doing anything, unless we want to. In which case plant a tree, or a couple hundred, to heighten the effect. Bring some fall color to your garden, to your house, to your street. Pay it forward this fall and you will be delighted for the rest of your life.

Treetroit 1 - Red Maples planted last year, and the Spruces that used to flank the house that stood there once. Yellowing Honey Locusts on the street, planted in the 80’s perhaps.

A bench is an invitation to take a load off, an invitation to pause. If you have time to use a bench you’re in good shape. This means you have time to be, time to contemplate, time to observe. I support this. I promise that when you put a bench in the shade life gets a little bit better.

Find a beautiful but underutilized spot in your yard, find a bench or make one, sit. Watch what happens. You will see more and appreciate more- you will see your own life from a slightly different perspective. Give a gift to yourself and those you love.

If you do not have a shady place for your bench you will need to first plant a tree, or plant several. This is good- trees make quick shade if we let them. At this time more than ever we see that we need a bench in our yard. Think it over for a moment and then make a commitment to make a park in your yard.

Start by taking a walk around the yard. Bring a folding chair and test some vantage points- test drive some shade. If you find that you need some more shade, shop trees. Look around at your neighborhood when you’re out for a walk. Which trees do you love? You can have one of those too, I promise. Do some research and see various specimens of this same tree at different stages and in different settings. See what conditions she likes.

Get ready to plant a tree, place a bench, and enjoy the park in your yard. Build a daily taste of retirement into your schedule. Watch the trees grow. Retire every day to the park in your yard and watch the seasons change from your front row seat. We all have season tickets- don’t forget to use them.

The bench at Treetroit 1 has become a centering point for lots of neighbors. More benches / more time to sit.

People are finding the bench and the Arb. This is really exciting. This gentleman, Mike, comes way across town to sit here. He tells me it's his second favorite spot after Belle Isle. And then his friends showed up- they met up here. And the one guy is about to turn 90.