My three “Journey” novels featuring Nina, her English Setter Harry, and friends Alex, Meredith, and Miguel, take place in rural central Virginia. Its rolling hills, sunny fields, and winding roads are beautiful.

During recent drives through that area, with green leaves and spring blossoms emerging, my eyes seemed to focus on the bare, leafless silhouettes of large dead trees in the fields. 

They were huge, stark caricatures of what they once were, branches spread, often shaped by the wind and weather of the field or hillside on which they stood.  

Call this a “loose association” if you will, but the sight of these ghost trees brought the idea of memories to mind. To me, memories represent vibrant living events, thoughts, or feelings represented in our recall of them-important-but no longer viable.

In those many years of life, what did those trees experience and how did they serve the environment? Did they shelter livestock, farmers, or other animals from the sun, wind, and rain? Did they add to the ecosystem through their foliage and root systems? Were they planted for a special reason because of their beauty, product, or appeal? Were they selected long ago to remain in a field stripped of other trees because of their size or appearance? In my drives, I see many trees cut down, with their trimmed logs stacked or moved along on the back of a truck. Why do some of these big beauties remain? Because of the expense or the inconvenience of removing them? Perhaps.

I like to believe these barren monuments serve as a testament to their past functions, and we preserve them to celebrate their history and contribution to the surrounding countryside.

While these “snags,” as they are called, stand out in their difference from the verdant green hillsides and forests, they importantly provide homes for moss, lichens, and fungi, beetles and larvae. Birds, bats, and other animals make their homes there, with some birds and mammals able to carve out homes in the bark and trunks as they soften. Birds such as owls and hawks use snags as observation posts for hunting. Their large root systems might continue to prevent soil erosion.

We can sometimes find value in things we initially see as unnecessary and outdated because they have other purposes. A closer, more careful observation might reveal what we have overlooked.

Thanks for sharing my musings, my friends.

Take care and be well,

Suanne