Old Sam

Old Sam had always believed in this as well. He felt that as trees gave off oxygen, which is necessary for humans, who in turn gave off carbon dioxide, vital for trees and plants, there must exist a remarkable and meaningful relationship between them that goes beyond any simplistic explanation.

Old Sam had also learned as a sapling that trees communicated with each other through the underground network of fungi, called mycorrhizae, which creates links in their roots and allows them to exchange nutrients, carbon, and warning signals. He knew that when the machinery had first arrived, trees in the forest had sent chemical and electrical signals through their roots and released airborne scents, such as pheromones, to warn each other of impending danger.

Over the years, roots of the trees in the area had been able to transfer resources like water, nitrogen, and other nutrients. This network that allowed older “mother trees “ to support younger saplings, even across different species. They had shared carbon during times when several of them had more access to sunlight than others. Occasionally, trees of the same species grew so close, their roots and branches grafted together, allowing them to directly exchange resources and information.

In other words, Old Sam knew that  trees are not inanimate objects left to the whims of Mother Nature. They are beings and can communicate with each other and with humans.

Dare he dream that at long last he could partner with someone who understood and believed all of this, he thought? He was particularly encouraged by the way in which the tall human and the family went about planting and transplanting. He was pleased by the gentleness they displayed, and the fact that they apparently enjoyed working in the soil with their hands.

In the years that followed, Old Sam was proven right. The family took excellent care of the property and the environment. They continued to plant new and different species of trees and plants, spread fertilizer to ensure they were able to thrive and installed a sprinkler system for use during dry spells.

Day lilies had now spread to every corner of the property and young saplings, offspring of older trees, had been allowed to grow in place. Ditches were dug to prevent flooding and special care was always given to Old Sam as he was considered the “patriarch” of the property.

Today Old Sam continues to spread his branches, all healthy with leaves, over the home each spring, not minding in the least when the dogs use his trunk to mark their territory. At long last he is content… and at peace.

Red-coloured maple leaf

author
Herb Finkelberg is a retired social worker, budding author, & budding saxophone player. He has written a collection of short stories based on characters he knew while growing up in Mile End, Montreal, Quebec, in the 1940’s.
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