February 2, 2009
The white elm tree towers high above the house. For years, it seemed like the highest tree I had ever seen. It seems like a distant past during the days when Robin Hood shot the old tree with home-made arrows, while fair maid Marian hid behind the wide wooden expanse. From Sherwood to Fangorn, the elm has also even seen elves and creatures of Middle-Earth. How many bonfires have threatened the roots of that old tree? The elm could have had a different life as a pew for a local church which would now be engraved with many a child’s wiggle and sharp keys. Instead, this elm withstood a tornado or two with only a bough hanging low. The elm saw a child swinging high turn into young lady pushed by her suitor. This tree still has a long life yet still to go, yet so many memories of life on the farm. Still towering high to see grandchildren swinging from that crooked swing like pirates at sea. Years of history behind and ahead and who knows when the end will be for that white elm tree.