A few days ago, I finally made my way to a trail that I’d attempted once before. I was 8 months pregnant then and it was during a blizzard. Needless to say the combination of activity and elevation gain caused me to begin contracting! I descended as the weather became unsafe and consequently, the interstate was shut down that afternoon “forcing” me to spend the night in the mountains that night with a friend. The whole incident still makes me think back on it and smile.
However, my thoughts weren’t turned towards those memories or much of anything other than the much-anticipated respite from my stress. I took my dog off leash for the first time and we began our way up the tree line. I anticipated the calmness of crisp fresh air and the beauty of the trail all week and to finally be out in it, I was immediately at peace. The weather finally turned it’s traditional October pivot here in the Rockies and the forecast stated rain/snow mix in the high country. The rain hadn’t come yet but the ever-increasing clouds were looming to the west of us as we headed straight towards them.
As we were trekking along I began to notice some aspen trunks that were lying on either side of the trail, evidence of some maintenance in the area. During the summer months, there’s a few trails in particular that I usually see U.S. Forest Service workers or volunteers thinning the area or providing trail maintenance but this late in the season I’d only see remnants of this work done in the warmer months.
I love aspens. Their beauty is unparalleled; after all, without them the fall wouldn’t be quite as majestic. So while hiking portions of the trail in which many cut off trunks were lying around, I took notice. I started to think about the trees themselves. To some people, they’re a hindrance due to their shooters that might often root in electrical or plumbing lines. But that’s part of what makes the trees so lovely. It’s rare to ever see a lone aspen. They hover on hillsides by the thousands and creep up rocky edges of the mountainside almost with determination. Like many trees, they’re shaped and bent by the wind but with aspens, it’s much easier to see these effects due to the trunk’s slender shape and height.
I spotted a tree that had unique curves. It was twisted to the left, then to the right then practically upside down and left again. There are a lot of aspens out there like this one but you usually don’t see them amongst the groves. They usually stand only where the wind is fiercest. Where their roots are earthed in the most exposed terrain and where they probably endure much harsher conditions throughout the seasons.
My thoughts turned to a certain loved one while looking at this tree and then I thought about people in general. We all have stories to tell. Sometimes stories of pain. Real pain. Stories of trials. Most of us have endured some harsh and brutal winters in our lives. There are the privileged ones amongst us who face these trials and the battle is our own. Private and personal. Completed while our trunks are still standing up straight. Others will have scars to show and they battle their issues but because of the nature of them, they’re forced to do it more publicly than the rest of us. Bent trunks. They’re different. They look different. You can pick them out in a crowd when they’re sized up next to the tall, straight trunks that “look normal”. Often times maybe they’re poster children for answering questions about a disability, behavioral problem or handicap, and sometimes unfortunately are magnets to criticism and judgment. Perhaps not noticed enough for the beauty in their shape. . . but it takes more to survive on the exposed ridge of the storm. And you know what? They’ll live out the rest of their days rooted in that same location. They were placed there and that’s their fate.
But given the towering branches high above and the neighboring trees that most likely came from or through them, it’s safe to say that they’ve managed to deal with these conditions and to be fruitful.
Isn’t that what we all want in the end? Some of us have the luxury of doing that privately. Others, don’t.
I stopped and said a prayer for my friend and picked up a small portion of the cut trunk that lay nearby. I plan on giving it to him one day. I also managed to find a 7 ft. trunk portion that was too beautiful to let lay there. So, I strapped one piece to my pack and lifted the other over my shoulder. Two miles, one hour and two sore shoulders later, I arrived back at my car.
It stands in the corner of my living room. Decorated and fondly looked on every day. It reminds me of my friend and the many who endure the storm, coming out a bit bent and shaped by them.
They are…..beautiful.
