The Old Apple Tree

The Tree had a Secret

I studied the enormous tree behind our house through my bedroom window this morning.  It’s tall and full and beautiful, and probably about as old as Florida.  I wonder what kind of tree it is.  I’ve been here twelve years and there are still so many plants and trees and flowers that I’m unfamiliar with.  I’m sure this tree, too, has secrets. 

It reminds me very much of a gnarly old apple tree we had in our side yard when I was a child. It, too, was ancient, and so big I couldn't begin to wrap my arms around it. I knew it had a secret.  One side of its trunk looked just like the wrinkled face of an old man with his eyes closed. I always imagined he had been trapped inside the tree by the spell of a wicked witch.

I always wished I knew what he did that put him there, biding his time, waiting for someone, or something to come along and break the spell and set him free.  Whatever it was, it didn’t deserve such a harsh punishment.  It always made me feel bad when the neighbors’ dogs  chose where his feet should be to take a pee.

Just above the old man, a long, thick branch grew straight out from the trunk and above that, a hole had formed in the trunk. I loved that branch –-it was my favorite place to be. I climbed up there and read for hours, my back against the trunk, legs stretched out with an extra book tucked in the hole above for later.

The apple tree wasn't just for reading and climbing. We kids used it as base when we played tag and because of its size, it was perfect to duck behind for hide and seek.

When I was in fourth grade, I had to memorize the poem, "Trees", by Joyce Kilmer. This Joyce was a man.  I remember thinking, it must have been an old apple tree that he wrote the poem about. Ours also had a nest of robins in its hair.

For years, Daddy wanted to take the tree down. "Lord knows, it isn't good for anything but dropping leaves in the fall and it never grows an apple." He and mama thought it was an eyesore and maybe it was, but Mother Nature saved him the trouble.

One hot summer night, we had a huge thunderstorm that woke all of us up. One flash of lightning was brighter than the rest. Daddy said it sounded like it hit something nearby and he went downstairs to look around. When he came back upstairs, he said the lightning had split the old apple tree right down the middle.

The next morning, I went outside to look.  My old reading branch was down on the ground and I felt sad. I loved that gnarly old tree.  It was like losing a Fairy Godfather and I missed it every day. 

But I always wondered, did the lightning break the spell and was the old man finally set free?

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