I have now experienced a connection with wood, wood working, and wood harvesting for over two years. For me, the connection extends past wood, its beauty, and its “energy”. For me it is a bond with something greater than myself. An important aspect of this relationship begins before I work with the wood. Before it is stored. Before it is harvested. The process begins while I walk amongst my trees. Not every tree is suitable for giving wood. Some trees are too beautiful to prune or harvest from while others are more “willing” to give of themselves.
Long before any cuts are made, I spend time with a tree. I can look at a tree for months or years before any wood is removed. I have many tress that I visit. For some, harvesting branches or secondary trunks brings out a greater beauty in a tree. For others, the removal of any wood destroys the inherent beauty of the tree.
The connection I create with my trees helps guide me to a decision on what to do. For example, in my orchard there are many old apple trees. Some small, some large. In particular there is one older apple tree that has caught my eye for years, from a time when I didn’t know of or have a connection. There is a lot of beautiful wood in this tree that has the potential to make many beautiful things. But the structure of the tree, in addition to how the local environment has enhanced it has led me to leave this tree alone so that it can exist in its own beauty.
Other trees can gain greater beauty (in my eyes) by undergoing some simple pruning. One of the most beautiful trees of mine causes me to experience peace and joy when I look at a picture of it.
I know it may seem strange to some that I have such a connection with trees. I know I refer to these trees as “mine”. I know these trees do not belong to me. I know that at any given moment, someone can come along and cut the trees down. But my attachment to these wonderful organisms is not diminished because of it. In fact, in a way, it lets me love the trees all the more, knowing their impermanence. So, I continue to refer to these trees as mine. Maybe because, in my heart, they hold a special place.
Sometimes I come across a tree that has no apparent outer beauty. A lot of the wood I harvest comes from trees that have been neglected for many years. The tree may be a tangle of old, weathered, broken branches. Most people would and do see these trees and say “What an ugly tree, cut it down and plant a new one.” However I have learned that the outer appearance of a tree has no bearing on the beauty inside. I have taken small, broken, shattered branches of a tree many times only to see the most beautiful grain. A grain that far surpasses the beauty of the more, structured, healthy trees.
