My family's property abounds in conifers, many of them cultivated by my father, who dug up young trees from our section of the forest and replanted them where they did not have to compete with mature trees for sunlight and water. He has planted cedar hedges to muffle the sharp northern winds; stands of white pines that are now 30-40 feet high and roar when the wind is high; beautiful blue spruce with their blue-tinged needles and near perfect symmetry; even a yew which provides shelter nearly every year to nesting birds. We used to have a juniper, but it died out, as did the Scotch pine, as neither are native to the area. But larches are native, as are the hemlock pines, which is also called by its Japanese name, tsuga. The mingled swamp and forest that the family property backs onto has scattered stands of tsuga on the higher ground. The shadows cast by the tsuga's great height form open forest glades around the trees, and coming upon such openings after struggling through tangled forest and wetland is like stumbling onto fairyland.
Fascinating essay, Jeffery! I love how you tie so many things together around “pine”.
Where I live, there is almost every kind of conifer right around us, and I have so much trouble remembering their Chinese names, because when I was growing up, all I ever knew the Chinese names for conifers were just simply 松 and 柏。😅
Oh, and I love your mention of the noun pine and verb pine!
The double entendre on the word "pine" thread through this essay with the "touch of the poet" --dear friend and glorious review too. Love to you, Jeffrey!
And yet, when the Duke of York, went with others to corral Richard, he saw him, on the battlements, and could not help but say, “Alack , alack for woe, that any harm should hurt so great a show.”. He was indeed a tall pine, staring down Warwick, demanding he be reminded just who was king.
Richard II has been my favorite Shakespeare play since first seeing it on PBS, via a BBC production, back in the 1960’s.
On a more recent event, over the past half century, lived in an area, where pines had been planted for Christmas trees. Then the owner decided they did not want to have people wandering around their property, so they just let them grow. Sixty years later they were falling over, to close together or being taken down by the fire department for safety. No matter how tall and great one may climb, all comes down in just a matter of time.
Thank you for this excellent comment, Micahel. I really like this: “No matter how tall and great one may climb, all comes down in just a matter of time.”
Another tour de force, Jeffrey. Hard to count the ways in which I love this piece. I’ll return to it later when I have more time to savor it. You certainly had my attention with the Twin Peaks reference at the beginning. It’s one of my all-time favorite series. I was in deep mourning when David Lynch died. The Douglas firs were not only atmospheric; they added a sense of mystery and menace that was critical to the plot. (I won’t even start with the Log Lady and her channeling of “the evil that lives in the woods.”) As I said, I’ll be back.
Thank you, Mary! It was impossible to resist the Twin Peaks reference. I saw plenty of Douglas firs around Vancouver on my visit last year and they were so impressive. They create a truly remarkable landscape.
I think trees are the most beautiful and gentle creations in the Universe. What a fitting tribute this is, Jeffrey.
Thank you, Portia. I try to walk among trees a few times a week. It's very calming.
It is!
This is a wonderful post, Jeffrey. I am always fascinated by word usage and meaning, especially Japanese words and their associations with poetry.
Thank you, Maureen! I also enjoy word play, which seems to happen in every language I've studied, and which I find enriching.
My family's property abounds in conifers, many of them cultivated by my father, who dug up young trees from our section of the forest and replanted them where they did not have to compete with mature trees for sunlight and water. He has planted cedar hedges to muffle the sharp northern winds; stands of white pines that are now 30-40 feet high and roar when the wind is high; beautiful blue spruce with their blue-tinged needles and near perfect symmetry; even a yew which provides shelter nearly every year to nesting birds. We used to have a juniper, but it died out, as did the Scotch pine, as neither are native to the area. But larches are native, as are the hemlock pines, which is also called by its Japanese name, tsuga. The mingled swamp and forest that the family property backs onto has scattered stands of tsuga on the higher ground. The shadows cast by the tsuga's great height form open forest glades around the trees, and coming upon such openings after struggling through tangled forest and wetland is like stumbling onto fairyland.
That sounds so wonderful, Holly. Thank you for sharing! To think I grew up on a farm with a solitary pine!
Fascinating essay, Jeffery! I love how you tie so many things together around “pine”.
Where I live, there is almost every kind of conifer right around us, and I have so much trouble remembering their Chinese names, because when I was growing up, all I ever knew the Chinese names for conifers were just simply 松 and 柏。😅
Oh, and I love your mention of the noun pine and verb pine!
The landscape there sounds so impressive! I can only imagine what the great Chinese painters would have made of it…
Your ability to weave literature and poetry from around the world in your essay astounds me. And this time from Richard II‼️
The double entendre on the word "pine" thread through this essay with the "touch of the poet" --dear friend and glorious review too. Love to you, Jeffrey!
And yet, when the Duke of York, went with others to corral Richard, he saw him, on the battlements, and could not help but say, “Alack , alack for woe, that any harm should hurt so great a show.”. He was indeed a tall pine, staring down Warwick, demanding he be reminded just who was king.
Richard II has been my favorite Shakespeare play since first seeing it on PBS, via a BBC production, back in the 1960’s.
On a more recent event, over the past half century, lived in an area, where pines had been planted for Christmas trees. Then the owner decided they did not want to have people wandering around their property, so they just let them grow. Sixty years later they were falling over, to close together or being taken down by the fire department for safety. No matter how tall and great one may climb, all comes down in just a matter of time.
Thank you for this excellent comment, Micahel. I really like this: “No matter how tall and great one may climb, all comes down in just a matter of time.”
Thank you.
Great post Jeffrey, full of fascinating facts. Not to forget the pineal gland, shaped like a pine cone.
Thank you, John. I didn't know that's how it got its name. But then, I never did study any anatomy!
Thank you Jeffrey for this stroll among the pines and poets. A lovely start to my Saturday.
I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Michelle!
Another tour de force, Jeffrey. Hard to count the ways in which I love this piece. I’ll return to it later when I have more time to savor it. You certainly had my attention with the Twin Peaks reference at the beginning. It’s one of my all-time favorite series. I was in deep mourning when David Lynch died. The Douglas firs were not only atmospheric; they added a sense of mystery and menace that was critical to the plot. (I won’t even start with the Log Lady and her channeling of “the evil that lives in the woods.”) As I said, I’ll be back.
Thank you, Mary! It was impossible to resist the Twin Peaks reference. I saw plenty of Douglas firs around Vancouver on my visit last year and they were so impressive. They create a truly remarkable landscape.