“I’ve Heard About Them. Now I’ve Seen One”
I have heard about them. Thus, I knew they must really exist. Somewhere out there in this big, old, wide world in which we live there surely had to be some of them roaming around. Because, if they did not exist, why would people say they did? Many times, when I have heard them referred to, it was almost as though they were some kind of odd creatures that defied description. However, I can say (at least for myself) “Now I have seen one”. And, do you what to know something? She was not odd at all. In fact, she was pretty ordinary. Not really all of that much different from you and me. However, you and I are really different from each other; are we not? I am not like you. You are not like me. (Boy are you lucky!) Let me put it this way, “We are uniquely different from each other.” At least that sounds and feels a lot better. Anyway, she is not all that different from you and me. Hopefully, by now, your curiosity will force you to read the rest of this document.
A few days ago the weather was just right for a good journey on a hiking trail. After driving for about an hour, the trailhead was reached. The trail up Maddron Bald was to be a little over 7 miles, one way. That was the trek chosen for this day in early Fall. This trail is special because it includes a short .7 mile loop/off-shoot into Albright Grove (aka: Albright Cove). The Albright Grove contains the largest stand of “old growth” or “virgin” timber in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (GSMNP).
As does happen occasionally, there were some others hiking on the trail. Before long, we became engaged in a conversation about the area. We talked about the history of the timber that had been harvested in the days prior to the establishment of the GSMNP. It was apparent those on the trail really knew very little about the surroundings. So, I pointed out a few things to them as we journeyed along. There are some old rock, moss covered walls and building foundations for them to see. The trail, for most of the hike, follows an old “narrow gauge railroad bed”. I helped them to gain an understanding of the ways they were used when the timber was harvested. Evidence of some long abandoned roads still exist. Step by step we began to enter into the “old growth/virgin timber”.
One of the hikers stated that he had hiked this trail once before, several years ago. On that hike he disclosed that he failed to see any “old growth/virgin timber”. As I listened to him I marveled at his obvious blindness and ignorance. My mind (and only in my mind) I decided that he was just about the dumbest fellow I had ever been around. It was all that I could do to bite my tongue in order to keep for saying “Why you @#$%^&*”. So, I began to point out some of the wonderful, awesome, magnificent, and magical “old growth/virgin timber” that embraced us with their canopy of leaf covered arms. My commentary became one of, “Look over there. Do you see that Tulip Poplar?” or, “How about that White or Red Oak?” or, “Don’t miss that big Spruce!” or, “Wow! What a majestic Maple!” or … Of course, I had to draw their attention to some of the huge Eastern Hemlocks that are victims of the Wooly Adelgid; causing the death of these majestic evergreens.
The trail led us to a place where a very old and very large Tulip Poplar tree stands. Any words that I have to use cannot begin to describe this giant. We stopped at the base of the tree. The hiker said, “Now is this an ‘old growth/virgin timber’ tree?’” My response was, “What do you think?” He said in reply, “I guess it must be.”
As we stood there, we guessed that it must be at least 150 feet tall and probably 7-8 feet around. A lady hiker asked, “How old do you reckon this tree is?” I really do not know the age of a tree. But, having attended a session with a retired forestry professor recently, I replied, “I don’t know. If I were to venture a guess, I would say this tree is probably between 300 and 400 hundred years old.” When I said that, the lady’s lower jaw dropped a bit, her eyes watered up with tears. She just kept looking up, shaking her head. We took a few steps away from the tree, on up the trail. She stopped and began taking pictures. Suddenly, she hastened back to the tree. That is the very moment I could say, “I’ve heard about them. Now I’ve seen one.” When she got back to the tree, she spread her arms as wide as she could possibly spread them, and she hugged the tree. I saw a true, honest to goodness tree hugger! Wow!
My encouragement to you is not to be like @#$%^&*. He is walking through the trails of life and failing to see, really see the “old growth/virgin timber” that surrounds him. Rather, may we be like the tree hugger who, in total and complete abandonment, reaches out to the beauty of that which surrounds her and embraces it with a sense of awe and wonder.