The Trees Knew

Snohomish River & Trees. photo by Mary Dessein
Walking along 1st Street recently, where I lived from age five until age twenty, I heard the huge cottonwoods and alders, before I really saw them. Yes, they are over a hundred feet tall, yet it is like driving along the freeway: I see the road surface but I pay minimal attention to it, and make no note of it.
One of my character defects is that when I see something enough times, like the clutter stacked on my love-seat, it becomes invisible.
I did not see the trees … until they called to me.

The “yes, yes, yes,” sound of thousands of their leaves whooshing in the breeze beckoned me. It was then that I turned and really looked at them. I heard the softest, shooshy whisper, “We knew you as a little girl.”

By golly, they did.
Oh, the street has changed – the section that was twenty plus feet below street level for those three blocks along 1st Street had been filled in sometime in the last thirty years. The three houses that were there forty years ago were now gone, replaced by an electric company, the City Public Works, a towing company, and a couple other large truck and construction businesses.

Yet the trees were still there along the edge of the river, as tall and strong as ever. Lush with late summer golden and orange leaves, rustling susurrous voices, gently soughing their song to me.
To the little girl I was, and had mostly forgotten.

Trees along River Trail. photo by Mary Dessein

Hearing the trees, I remembered how I sang to them when I was out in the backyard batting my tetherball around the pole my dad put up for me when I was in elementary school. I remembered sitting in their shade for the picnics on the blanket with my sister and our dolls. I remembered the great dollops of snow falling from their boughs when the sun warmed their branches after a storm.

And the trees remembered me.

21 Comments

  • Meg Philp

    October 15, 2018 at 2:46 am

    Yep. Trees are great connectors to place. Lovely to have those
    memories, Mary. Thanks from Meg

  • Meg Philp

    October 15, 2018 at 2:48 am

    PS. Oops forgot to say that I love that photo of the Snohomish River!

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 3:08 am

      Thank you! Best to you, Meg~

      • Aletha Helm Riter

        October 15, 2018 at 9:08 pm

        This is Lovely…as I read it you brought back memories of when I was that age and
        I used to talk to flowers….and how they talked to me…how I went to my mother and
        told her, “mama that flower talked to me” and she said.. “flowers don’t talk to you”

        • Mary

          October 15, 2018 at 9:18 pm

          Yet they do, don’t they, Aletha? And your art shows it.
          Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment.

  • Colette Bolyn

    October 15, 2018 at 3:03 am

    Hi Mary, Remember me?
    This is a really nice comfortable story that makes me think about my childhood memories.
    Thank you for including me in this story!
    Coco. ????

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 8:55 pm

      Of course I remember you~ Expect an email.
      Thank you very much for reading, Colette. I am pleased it pleased you.

  • robin dachenhausen

    October 15, 2018 at 3:31 am

    what a wonderful example of living in the moment. this is something I am guilty of.

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 8:56 pm

      Thank you.
      You are guilty? I cannot believe that!

  • Michele Ohge

    October 15, 2018 at 4:57 am

    Touched my heart.
    I learned a new word – susurrous; even the word sounds like it’s meaning.
    Thanks Mary!

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 8:57 pm

      Thank you for reading, Michele. Good to hear from you. I fell asleep thinking susurrous thoughts. I love that word.

  • Jill Snow

    October 15, 2018 at 5:43 am

    I was instantly a young girl, walking to Central Elementary in the fall. Watching the leaves fall, splashing through the piles of the fallen, enjoying fundamental nature at her best.
    Thanks for the picture you gently placed in my mind. ????????

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 8:59 pm

      How lovely, thank you, Jill. Indeed, Central School~~ Remember the nasturtiums along the front walk?

  • Ruth A Reyes

    October 15, 2018 at 7:22 pm

    I love that part “And the trees remembered me”. What a beautiful thought, Mary.

    • Mary

      October 15, 2018 at 9:00 pm

      Ruth, now you know, I hear things everywhere~ Thank you for reading, so glad you liked it.

  • Donna M. Rudiger

    October 17, 2018 at 10:10 pm

    Lovely piece, Mary. There is a lyric line in the song “Who I was born to be”, sung by Susan Boyle, that goes: ‘When I was a girl, I could hear the wind in the trees, it was there calling out my name’…..the Universe has stepped up its communication with us at every level. Keep listening….it may give you a song to write! Blessings my dear friend!

    • Mary

      November 1, 2018 at 5:06 am

      Thank you Donna~

  • SUSAN Murphy

    October 31, 2018 at 3:49 pm

    Mary, what a beautiful piece. I love how you captured my attention and helped me with my own memories of the area. You should be PUBLISHED!!!

    • Mary

      November 1, 2018 at 5:08 am

      Susan, thanks for reading. I am so pleased to hear how it affected you. Thanks for your vote of Confidence~~

  • millie callaghan

    November 3, 2018 at 3:19 am

    Hi Mary….This sent me back to 301
    ave B as I shuffled through the leaves on my way to SHS in the fall of the year… I still love the fun of shuffling…. xo

    • Mary

      November 3, 2018 at 4:35 am

      Ya-hoo! Thanks for checking in, Millie. So many fun things to remember, that have to be triggered. Best to you~