Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall
Heard only in the trances of the blast,
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles,
Quietly shining to the quiet Moon..
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
One of our trees is crying.
I see no other reason for it to be producing icicles, in the absence of any rain or snow.
“It is such a secret place, the land of tears.”
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
What’s a tree got to cry about?
The boy stayed away for a long time.
And when he came back, the tree was so happy
she could hardly speak.
“Come, Boy,” she whispered, “come and play.”
I am too old and sad to play,” said the boy.
“I want a boat that will take me far away from here.
Can you give me a boat?”
“Cut down my trunk and make a boat,” said the tree.
“Then you can sail away…and be happy.”
And so the boy cut down her trunk and made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy…
but not really.
The Giving Tree
“If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.”
Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot defend themselves or run away. Through all the eventful centuries since Christ’s time, and long before that, God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand storms; but he cannot save them from sawmills and fools; this is left to the American people.
I think that might be the cold meds talking.
Seriously, though, any ideas why the tree is forming icicles? Should I be concerned?