Study of a Tree

        On old Nantucket’s property sat a national monument: the oldest tree in all of North America. Of course, like most all great trees, it sat firmly in the ground off to the side of a front porch, offering a house its tranquil shade and shelter from the sweltering sun. The trunk was large and cockeyed, running at a slant from the ground to the sky. The slope was mellow enough for a young child to crawl on hands and knees upwards, but after about five feet, the trunk shot up. A wide array of dark brown pinecones–none larger than a baseball–peppered the lush green thistles that populated the many branches. Exposed roots laid at the foot of the tree, rolling in crisscrossed patterns that spread out from the trunk. One does not hold the title of Oldest Tree in North America without bearing a few scars of a life well-lived however. Brown thistles gathered in small patches throughout the tree’s head, and knotted portals of darkened wood spotted the tree’s body. Parts of the trunk more accessible to the generations of children spanning all of history became scratched, bruised, and battered from pocket knives, arrowheads, and sharpened sticks. Despite any abuse inflicted, on purpose or accident, the tree remained optimistic in its worldview, and it continued to uplift its branches, with limbs exalted high to heaven in praise.