Legacy Trees

The trees I see best from my front porch in downtown Ithaca are the Ginkos and honey locusts across the street on that strip of land planted by the City between sidewalk and street. They are taller by a story or 2 than the homes around them, and right now, with the branches bare of leaves, you can see large nests of several species. I know I’ve seen squirrels and Jays go in and out of those nests- and some of those nests have been there longer than I’ve lived in my house- so the nests themselves pass generation to generation. The squirrels use the canopy, a continuity of trees to travel safely out of the way of cats and cars to food and water. Last summer I watched the young squirrels first venture out of their nest in the honey locust climb out and learn travel across the street to my little Japanese Lilac, younger and smaller, where my bird feeder hangs. I watched, over the course of just a week or 2 as they grew bolder and braver and more skillful. Something about just sitting and watching the trees and all the activity of those who call them home is deeply and easily healing to my spirit.

For many of us paying attention to nature is an important spiritual practice. In her book Circle Round: Raising Children In The Goddess Traditions Diane Baker writes “One of my primary goals as a parent is to help my children revere earth, and discover the powerful correlation between loving nature and living the Goddess.” She shares her personal motto, “Studying nature is learning divinity.” … [392] So when you are staring out your window watching a squirrel scamper, we might not realize we are learning divinity. It’s a lovely spiritual practice, and one place to start paying attention to and knowing the trees around you- In that same book Starhawk writes “No Thealogy, no ritual can do as much to teach children to love nature as a friendship with a real tree. A fruit tree in your backyard, a favorite climbing tree, a host to a bird’s nest or a newly planted sapling can become a source of joy and connection for your child. I still remember the tree my friend Barry and I most loved to climb when I was nine years old. I still mourn the magnificent sycamore I could see from our kitchen window that our neighbors cut down years ago.” [p. 386]

I wonder, sometimes, as I sit there on the porch, what would happen to all those birds and squirrels, not to mention the moss and lichen and all the unseen critters and plants who depend on those trees, if that Honey Locust tree was cut down.

It is part of the job of the Ithaca City Forester makes the hard decisions about which trees need to be removed. She has to weigh things like what branches could be a danger to passing pedestrians, cars and buildings. She also has to take a long view about the urban forest as a whole- for example if you replace all the trees at one time, then the new generation will be set up to die off around the same time. I watch as they choose a couple trees in each neighborhood to cut down each summer, and replace them with young trees. By young, we probably mean at least 10 years old, taller than me. On one property where they took down the biggest oldest tree on the block, an ancient maple it would have taken at least 2 people to get their arms around in a hug, which had been dropping branches and was starting to decay in places, they carefully replaced it with a young fruit tree. Obviously this is not an even swap. Not even the smallest bird or squirrel can live in the young tree. It’s certainly not providing the same carbon sink of a big tree, or helping clean the air like a big tree. And remember much of a tree extends below where the soil, where it is an important part of the community of underground life as well. On my daily walks during this transition I could see the huge hole left by the roots of this great tree, and the comparatively tiny root ball of the new one.

The new tree provides no shade, but on the up side I think my neighbor likes all the sunshine, and you can see the rapid influx of sun loving plants that are sprouting up under the tiny fruit tree that never could have lived under that old Maple.

As hard as it is to see one old tree go down in a neighborhood full of wonderful trees in all stages of life, I appreciate that commitment to sustaining a multi-generational urban forest. When the city of Ithaca did that major reconstruction on the commons, they thought long and hard about the trees there. Ultimately they had to take out many trees to do the renovations, since their root system was right where the plumbing needed to be, they left a couple of older trees in bank alley and designed the new walkway to flow around them, preserving some of the only natural shade and habitat on the commons. You can also see the new trees, older than saplings but still shorter than the buildings around them, that are part of this multigenerational plan.

As a culture we seem to cut down trees easily. My friend Aileen lives in a part of the world where with surprising regularity she sees whole wooded areas gone in a matter of days, replaced by server farms, big industrial buildings. Even in housing developments it is common to see old trees cut down for the ease of developers who then plant saplings in the fill dirt as if this was a replacement. The new buildings go up quickly in a matter of months, but the contractors who cut down the old trees will probably not live to see the replacements grow to maturity. I tell you it breaks my heart to see an old tree taken down without thought to what really is lost.

When I walk through my local grocery store I don’t feel assuaged by their promise of “one billion trees planted”- the young tree and the mature tree are not equivalent. Planting new trees is wonderful, but without a community of elders, most fail to survive. Not cutting down a tree- protecting it and preserving it -- is much less glamorous than planting a new one but is a powerful and important contribution.

The trees invite us to think of the value of things that grow slowly, and how that slow stable steady growth can ground a whole community. I think trees can be important teachers if we let them. We don’t have many truly ancient trees nearby, all those primeval forests were cut down by the early settlers, but even the city trees, the ones old enough to shelter squirrels and birds, are older than us. They are patient and slow, and so it’s easy to overlook the decades or centuries of growth it takes to build a structure that serves not only their own species, but the whole ecosystem where they live and grow.

Perhaps those heritage trees can be role models for our own lives, can provide a different perspectives for our traditions and institutions in our community. We are a culture that rewards novelty and startups. I’m told there are many more grants, for example for nonprofits who are kickstarting new initiatives than grants to support older programs with deep roots in the community. As someone with pretty radical progressive views I know I have often taken a “tear it all down” attitude towards the institutions that clearly do not serve all people.

Sometimes, as I approach the anniversary of 25 years in the ministry, as we as a congregation celebrate 215 and 186 years since our founding, and over 250 years of universalism, I often wonder, how would I know when it was time to step aside and let some younger minister, some newer organization take the sunshine, space and resources I use right now?

Susan V. Bosak of the Legacy Project writes:

“Where do you think it's best to plant a young tree: a clearing in an old-growth forest or an open field? Ecologists tell us that a young tree grows better when it's planted in an area with older trees. The reason, it seems, is that the roots of the young tree are able to follow the pathways created by former trees and implant themselves more deeply. Over time, the roots of many trees may actually graft themselves to one another, creating an intricate, interdependent foundation hidden under the ground. In this way, stronger trees share resources with weaker ones so that the whole forest becomes healthier. That's legacy: an interconnection across time, with a need for those who have come before us and a responsibility to those who come after us.”

Let’s consider that for a moment- how we as a congregation need those who came before us, and our responsibility to those who come after. Consider, for example, how challenging our commitment to multi-platform worship has been. We are building new pathways in real time, or as some say building the plane while flying it. It makes me more appreciative of the pathways we inherited, those built for us by all the volunteers who came before in our churches. I stand right now in the Athens sanctuary where the curve of the pulpit area was constructed to send sound out into the sanctuary, how the light of the southern stained glass window lights us on sunny days. Little things like the fact that there is already an outlet under the pulpit, a door that closes between the pulpit and the back door, which even has a coatrack for the worship team’s coats, and a mirror in case you panic at the last moment about whether your hair is sticking up funny. If you wanted to go in the social hall right now and make coffee for yourself, for 10 people, for 100 people, everything you need is right there including written instructions. Hundreds of ways big and small that members of our congregations smoothed the way for us now. And we too building pathways now that we hope will serve in time to come – like the addition we are building to our sanctuary in Zoom space for all those who want to be with us but can’t join us in person.

Just as our city Forester must decide which trees are steady and strong, which trees need to be pruned, and when it is time for an old tree to come down and make space for the next generation, so we are called to discern. It’s easy, when you are young, to see all that needs to be changed, matched by all the fresh energy and inspiration ready to manifest. It can take the long view of older folks to see the role these older sometimes unseen institutions and traditions play in undergirding and supporting anything that will be built today. It’s not just age, of course, but perspective- if an old tree or old institution has been blocking the sun from shining on you, you can easily see the importance of taking it down. If you were supported in some nurturing way by, say a UU church, it’s easier to imagine how that church could serve those who come after.

Right now the Athens congregation is working through the sale of our Sheshequin meeting house. A beautiful old tree if ever there was one- on the national registry of historic places as a great example of federalist architecture, and a place of great meaning for many in our church and larger community. Fortunately, the fellow who is buying the place is one of those for whom the building has meaning. A new squirrel in an old nest perhaps.

Just as we might take for granted the gifts of the great old legacy trees, it’s easy to take for granted these great old traditions, like Universalism, like democracy. In honor of the new year of the tress, I invite you to bring to mind with gratitude great old heritage trees (literal and metaphoric) in your community. These old trees, old traditions, yes even us older people have something important to offer to the generations who are new, and those yet to come. It’s not always clear what that is, since the future is so uncertain, but maybe it would be fun as we are noticing our trees to ask “in what way am I like that old maple? Or like that little fruit tree? How does my being and growing and living support others in the web of life, and what big old trees that I did not plant support and shelter and make way for me?

In honor of the new year for trees, we pay attention to the trees which support and shade and provide oxygen for our own lives, with respect and gratitude. This time of year right now is a great time to see the branching frame of the tree, each one different, it’s also a great time to see nests and the critters who live in trees. Soon the buds will set and leaves will start to grow almost overnight; we’re heading into a very rewarding time to pay attention to a tree in your neighborhood. In honor of the New Year for Trees, we also keep planting seeds and sheltering the young ones. This is one of the blessings of inter-generational community- the community of trees, of beings, and our little gathered community planted long before any of us were born, and growing still.