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Saving the Dogwood

They had black rot, the tree man said, it would be dangerous for them to stay, so close and liable to fall on the house. But I think those three tulip poplars should have stayed.

I remember that day clearly, the buzzing of chain saws, seeing the tree men climb with their slings and cruelly sharpened spurs. They cut away the branches first, tossing them to be mulched, shredding the proud green leaves. They tore the limbs until nothing but gray spears remained, proud and resolute.

Even the trunks they defiled tore away their pride, bit by bit, log by log.

I grabbed my bike and left in the middle. I couldn’t stand it. The ceaseless buzzing of chainsaws, the sound they made when they cut clean through a branch, the inevitable, repeating thud of the shortened piece of trunk falling to the ground. Those sounds rang in my ears as I peddled away.

I went to see some friends. We talked about frivolous things and played outside, but the tearing down of those proud Goliaths still lurked in my mind.

Once I got home, one was gone. Nothing but a stump, bleeding fresh sap, and a pile of logs remained. Another had undergone the transformation to a gray spear, but its tip was already gone. Only one whole tree remained. It was the proud soldier left of the three. Its leaves swayed in the wind, making rustling noises as if mourning the deaths of its companions.

But soon it too would be gone. There would be nothing left but a dogwood tree and three stumps arranged in a triangle around it to show what had once been the three mighty poplar giants.


I don’t know how I slept that night. I could still hear the buzzing of chain saws even though the tree men finished in the late afternoon. Those trees were such a looming presence I could not imagine how the morning would look without them.

I can still remember seeing the dogwood the next morning among those stumps. It was small, with just a few leaves hanging on after its protectors’ demise. One limb was completely torn off. But the dogwood hung on, surrounded by a perimeter of sawdust, and grew into the green-leafed beauty I see today.

I could not imagine how that dogwood had survived in the center of the triangle of towering poplars that stole its light for all those years. The only happy thing about the whole process of the poplars being cut down has been seeing the dogwood flourish in its newfound freedom. Recently, I even noticed green berries forming in clusters, ready to grow new dogwoods as it had grown itself.

A few days after the poplars were cut down, I went to another friend’s house. She was bemoaning the loss of two branches from her favorite climbing tree. It was a small, wizened thing, and pruning those branches would help it grow better. But she could not be consoled: now she couldn’t climb it, she said, even after I showed her another way up. I told her of the loss of the three behemoths in my yard, but she shoved if off. Her tree was special, she said.

Those trees were special too—shade trees to read under. She could not understand how those trees, with their gargantuan presence, could ever be special. They couldn’t even be climbed. She would never understand.


But I still remember that poor dogwood, lucky thing it was, being saved from the fates
that befell its neighbors. It is now so beautiful, with its haloes of blossoms last spring, when the
spring before it had only a few, that I understand the sacrifice, three trees for one, losing so much, gaining what seemed so little.
But even small things have beauty, as that dogwood showed in its transformation, and I understand now how three big trees died for a small one to live.



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This article has 8 comments. Post your own!

readaholicThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 2, 2012 at 5:25 pm:
Really, really good. It made me feel a lot, even though it's about trees (no offense or anything, but you know, it's hard to relate). I love it, definetly earned those five stars!
 
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Wordscantsay said...
Nov. 6, 2011 at 12:58 pm:
WOW really good :D
 
AnimaCordis replied...
Nov. 27, 2011 at 5:40 am :
This is really, really good. I like your use of long sentences for effect. Interesting subject as well.
 
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IamtheshyStargirlThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Oct. 29, 2011 at 1:21 pm:
Incredible! This is amazingly written, it's easy to follow, and very well put together. Thanks for writing this, I really enjoyed reading it :)
 
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Emiri said...
Oct. 28, 2011 at 9:25 pm:
I got into it in the third paragraph. I like how you called them teh "tree men". that made me smile. You're writing style flows very well, and it's rare that I see one like this. One that I like. Good job, keep writing.
 
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JillianNora said...
Oct. 27, 2011 at 9:45 pm:
I really like how you turned something as seemingly insignificant as a tree being cut down into a powerful, emotional story. Beautiful work:) (PS. Thanks so much for your help on my thread!)
 
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RayBaytheDinosaur said...
Oct. 25, 2011 at 12:02 am:
I loved this, Im a huge treehugger and environmentalist myself so i can relate. But i can also relate to the other girl cuz i was TICKED when they cut off the good branches to one of my old climbing trees xD lol
 
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awesomeninja11 said...
Oct. 22, 2011 at 12:32 pm:
Amazing. I love it. You are SO GOOD AT WRITING!!!!!!!!!!!
 
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