Chainsaws

I went to the post office today with my chainsaw. Ryan asked if I would cut off the dead branches on the old Willow tree in Front. It had long ago served its purpose and now it had become an eyesore. I reflected of other majestic willow trees I had seen with their long swaying branches gracefully arching to the ground, near a small stream or grassy meadow. Magnificent sentinels shading a pleasant summer picnic or young lovers. All of us who live here have noticed the old tree. The few branches that were left were bare sticks now. I filled the chainsaw with gas and oil and started it up. It is a man thing. Noise and power. I revved it up and let the carburetor clear the excess oil from starting. I was in my glory, me and my Stihl chain saw. I backed my truck closer so that I could stand on the tail gate and reach a little higher. As each of the branches fell, I had a new appreciation for the beauty of that old dead tree. I finished with the chainsaw and had a revelation. I started peeling off the dead bark. I was able to remove almost all the bark. When I finished, I stood back and looked again at that old eyesore. It was now beautiful to me. The rich grain of the wood. The variations in color. It reminded me of a majestic grandfather. Several people commented to me about the change. Two asked if I was going to cut it down. Another said the firewood wouldn’t be very good.

As I thought about the various comments from the postal patrons, I remembered some other dead trees that I had seen in Albuquerque.

Every year around the 4th of July, the firework stands start showing up. This year was a particularly dry year for Albuquerque, New Mexico. I was living close by the Bosque. That is name of the river corridor that passes through Bernalillo, Corrales, and Albuquerque. The cotton from the cottonwood trees was thick on the ground. Walking along the nature trail was one of our favorite activities when we lived there. I kept a yearly zoo pass for several years after I moved because it backed up to the bosque and the natural trees and landscaping made it so  beautiful. 

That year some young boys had decided to light the cotton fluff and watch it burn. Before they could stop the spread of the fire, it had gotten out of their control. The  fire burned many acres of precious native wood land and left the trees burned, scorched and dying. It was so sad to drive over Montano bridge each day and see the dead trees. It was heart breaking. It took many months before a plan was agreed upon to repair the river corridor and the nature trails. Volunteers showed up to plant new the cottonwood trees and thousands were planted to replace some of the destroyed trees. Many of those old trees were approaching a hundred years old or more. The crews came in and began to cut and haul away the dead trees. Some were left for the birds and animals to use as homes. 

There was a small cluster of trees right next to the road that were left. It was next to a parking area for the nature trail. I watched for weeks and wondered why these trees had been left standing. One day as I drove by I noticed some activity. There was a lone man with a chain saw. He was cutting a tree. I could only glance for a moment because the traffic was moving and I had to move. The next day, there he was again, working on the same tree. I watched over the next weeks and months and years as this man worked on those trees. I have since visited that site many times to see the beauty of those dead, scorched and burned trees. This lone man with a chain saw had a vision of those trees. He saw them as undiscovered works of art and helped to release them from their confinement.

That old willow tree in front of the post office is now a symbol to me of the hidden beauty that lies within each of us. The years of growth often leave scars and disease upon our bodies and our spirits. But when the right Craftsman comes along in our life, he is able to transform our dying, eyesore, neglected tree into a magnificent sculpture. Revealing the once hidden and neglected treasures. 

Thank you Ryan, for allowing me to be reminded of such a valuable lesson in life.  Not to judge the outer scars of life, but to see the inner beauty of each masterpiece of the Master Craftsman.