Left, right, rich, poor, young or young-at-heart, we all know what a treasure we have in our country. Some aspects of the United States are unique and others we just appreciate uniquely. One special part of America's Heritage is trees.
Trees are easy to love, but getting to know them individually takes a bit more fortitude. My earliest best-loved tree was a pepper tree in our back yard, under which I taught my doll "Clownie" to read. Cool air dropped like a curtain when I passed under its canopy, creating a perfect climate shelter on hot summer days.
Our next back yard was graced with a quintessential Coast Live Oak. A tire swing hung from a horizontal branch for two generations of kids; sometimes we stacked ourselves two generations high. Wooden slats nailed into the trunk climbed to my brother's tree fort. I preferred sitting in the huge branches themselves, making doll tea parties on the flat surfaces created at intersections. I knew individual branches: they were cradling arms when life wasn't going my way, and science lessons when I realized how much life was active on them.
Having enjoyed trees as a child, I was astounded by how little I knew decades later, when I read a New Yorker article. The writer interviewed a married couple of scientists who researched redwood trees by living for days or weeks at a time in their canopies. This species' tallest members reach higher than a 35-story building. Camping there is no small feat. The Humboldt State University researchers, Stephen C. Sillet and Marie Antoine, found how much the giants reshape their local climate and environment, and control the movement of water in the forest.
I was startled by was their discovery of just how much was living in the trees. The canopy was packed with epiphytes, to be sure. But there were also hanging gardens of ferns, thickets of huckleberry bushes, and layers of soil supporting entire substantial trees like Douglas fir and spruce. There were plants, animals, and insects that had likely never touched the surface of the earth. In a way that strangely brought me back to my tree-time child's emotions, I saw the trees as whole planets unto themselves.
People have long recognized the value of trees for aesthetics and for that most amazing landscape characteristic – summer shade followed by winter warmth through the leafless branches. More recently we have come to understand their powerful role in cleaning city air. Trees help to settle out, trap and hold particle pollutants like dust, ash, pollen and smoke that can damage human lungs. They absorb CO2 and replenish the atmosphere with oxygen. An acre of trees produces enough daily oxygen for 18 people. Over a year's time, that same acre of trees absorbs CO2 equaling the amount emitted by a car driven 26,000 miles.
Perhaps because of all these advantages, the Arbor Day Foundation has a program to recognize cities which value trees, awarding them the distinction of "Tree City USA." There are city members in just about every state, each of which follow four rules: maintain a Tree Board or Department, a Tree Care Ordinance, a Community Forestry Program budgeted with at least $2 per capita, and an Arbor Day Observance and Proclamation.
Having traveled in every state in the union, I have seen "Tree City USA" signs in quite a number of cities and towns. They are places where nature is recognized as a partner rather than something that has been banished within its borders. A senior partner, to be sure, for they pre-date cities by a wide margin.
America's heritage of living trees traces back to the Bristlecone pines found in sub-alpine regions of the Western U.S., from the Colorado Rockies to California's Eastern Sierras. Some of the determined individuals in these forests sprouted nearly 5,000 years ago. Visiting a grove last year, I tried to picture their long lives, decade by decade and century by century. The scattered groves, strewn sparsely on otherwise-desolate looking high altitude hillsides, reminded me of an aging band of horses, standing patiently and observing the occasional changes around them. They are unconcerned about passing of bands of humans, the digging of roads, and the arrival of tourists by car and foot.
One reason we anthropomorphize trees is their upright character: they are vertical like we are. They are sentinels, wise overseers, gentle giants. Yet we are dwarfed by trees. Their sheer height and their unfathomable longevity are awe-inspiring. Their mysterious mirror-selves are buried unknowably in the earth. Trees embody wisdom, holding their ground and reaching for the sky.
Karen Telleen-Lawton, CFP®, serves America's heritage of seniors by providing fee-only financial services. She is Principal of Decisive Path Fee-Only Financial Advisory in Santa Barbara, California (http://www.DecisivePath.com). You can reach her with your financial planning questions or comments at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .