In Thanksgiving for the Mother Tree
Photo by Chuck Hoffman © Genesis+Art
Holden Village, Chelan, Washington
Holden Village Evening Vespers
BE STILL AND AWARE please enter in silence
SAM: INSTRUMENTAL play throughout
CHUCK: INTRODUCTION - Names are read for the day
Tonight’s simple vespers is to give thanks for the Mother Tree. We will learn what a Mother Tree is and the life that it gave to this forest. We will also offer prayers for the earth, its healing and continued sustainable life for all of creation.
CHUCK: CALL AND RESPONSE- on the screen
LEADER: O Great Creating Spirit, may we today be touched by grace, fascinated and moved by this, your creation,
ALL: Energized by the power of new growth at work in your world.
Leader: May we move beyond viewing this life only through a frame,
ALL: But touch it and be touched by it, know it and be known by it, love it and be loved by it.
LEADER: May we forge a new relationship with our earth,
ALL: And discover a new affinity with its care, with its beauty, with life, and with the Great Creating Spirit that sustains all things.
EMILIE: THE STORY OF THE MOTHER TREE photos and The Secret Life of Trees
I had first learned of the concept of a “mother tree,” not long before a first came to Holden a few years ago – that if you’re in an area of trees and see one that is much larger than the rest, of the same type, that it likely seeded many of the smaller trees around it. As I’ve been reading more from Peter Wohllemben about The Hidden Life of Trees, in his book by that title, my understanding of mother trees has deepened. More than even seeding other trees, mother trees are “dominant trees widely linked to other trees in the forest through their fungal-root connections.” Those are his words, drawing from Dr. Suzanne Simard, who helped discover the maternal instincts in trees. Yes, maternal instincts – Peter quotes the well-established idea of the “upbringing” of young trees. Mother trees have incredibly large canopies that shelter the young trees while they establish themselves.
The canopy of a mother tree and the established canopy trees around it only lets in 3% of sunlight – practically nothing – through to the small trees starting up below, which Peter describes as a fairly strict upbringing. Yet his words are “slowly does it” for trees – this actually ensures that the trees can’t grow upward in a hurry, they instead to grow incredibly sturdy yet flexible inner woody cells that contain hardly any air, which protects them from winds and fungi. They also have to weather more challenges, to adapt and learn, before they make the more arduous journey of growth upward into tall, shading trees themselves. Scientists have determined that slow growth when the tree is young is a prerequisite if a tree is to live to a ripe old age. In the meantime, while the children get barely enough sunlight to photosynthesize the energy to keep their body from dying, the mothers are in contact with them through their root systems, passing on sugars and other nutrients – you might even say they are nursing their babies.
Here are the statistics of our Mother Tree:
Douglas Fir (Psaudotsuga menziesii)
63” Diameter
147’ Tall
Approx. 260 years old (origin approx. 1756)
At 50 years: 16.5” Dia.
At 100 years: 32” Dia.
At 200 years: 42” Dia.
Bark: Approx. 3” thick
Fire Scar: Approx. 1860
Overall the tree had a good life but started to fade in recent years, even before the Wolverine Fire of 2015.
PEG: The Mother Tree did not go down easily as you might imagine. A tree that’s been standing in the mountains for nearly 300 years wouldn’t. She was scheduled to be cut down last year, but none of us had the heart to do it. “Do we have to cut her down or can we wait a year?” I remember asking Craig Edburg and Tom Smith. They nodded that we could wait. Time past swiftly, and this year, Craig came back to cut the remaining trees on the list to be felled. Even to my untrained eye, the Mother Tree had gone from being barely alive to being dead in that year. When it was time to fell her, I came out to be a witness to her transition. Craig used 2 different chain saws cutting from 3 sides. He left a hinge on the downhill side so she wouldn’t skip and skid out when the wedges were driven in.
Mitch stood like a sentinel in the cold and rain guarding the path and keeping watch over Craig. In my mind it was fitting that it was raining. She was the first tree at Holden that I knew well. About half way through the felling, the school kids and their teachers came running up the hill to watch. Villagers gathered in small groups and stood a good distance back. We stood watching for a long time, then we watched and waited and waited some more. At last she gave in and toppled over exactly where Craig had designed.
My heart skipped a beat at the first crack. We all held our breath as she fell. When she hit the ground it sent a thundering vibration through the forest. All of the children screamed YAY with glee, fists held high over head, leaping and jumping and cheering and flinging themselves over each other, then running wildly to the tree. They touched her, climbed on her and delighted in being with her. It was exactly what a mother would want most at her death, I thought…surrounded by children, both her own species and others. I too found myself shouting hooray. Yay for the Mother Tree and the way she fostered the forest, marked the trail and became a touchstone for the village.
EMILIE: photographs: Burned Mother Tree l & Burned Mother Tree ll
Mother Tree by Miriam Hathaway
You, who once stood proud,
A wide-open chest
Of life and limbs and home.
You, who bloomed our seeds
from within your thick body,
from within
your dark and quiet cave,
Dropping us,
one by one,
In hope and trust.
You, who bowed to us
with your drips of dew,
Your buried fibers touching
Our unseen efforts
Our first push out, our first green day.
You, whose roots entangled with ours,
Weaving our bedclothes and hair.
Now who is burned from core to crust,
Blazed by an earth fire sun,
Now food for the mushrooms that feast
on your shadowed body,
To become the soil,
That breathes the light,
That sends the wind
into this marbled space.
You, who once whispered
A lullaby to us beneath your
Umbrella of moss-ringed arms,
Now held forever in silence by ours.
EMILIE: If you are able, we will now walk up to the Mother Tree behind Chalet 6 and read a final blessing. As you walk you can pick up a stone or a leaf or branch to leave by her trunk as a symbol of our appreciation for her steadfast devotion to this forest and Holden Village.
Photo by Chuck Hoffman © Genesis+Art
CHUCK: At the Tree (Candle lights on stump)
PRAYER OF BLESSING
In the coming hours of darkness
may there be light in our dreams.
In the stillness of sleep
may there be strength for our souls.
In the wakeful watches of the night
may there be peace in our minds.
Light for new vision
strength to make sacrifice
peace for our world.
On the pathways of earth’s journey this night
let there be peace. + Amen
Go, be touched by God’s grace and moved by creation.
© Thanksgiving for the Mother Tree Vesper by Peg Carlson-Hoffman + Chuck Hoffman, Emilie Bouvier.
© Mother Tree by Miriam Hathaway
See more conversations in EARTH; ART; EXHIBITIONS; EmilieBouvier.com; MiriamHathawayWrites.com