Category Archives: dendographia

Dendrographia (den-dro-graf’-ia): Creating an illusion of reality through vivid description of a tree.

I was tipsy. I shouldn’t have been driving, but I was 17 and wild. With my arm around my girl and one hand on the wheel, I was driving 30MPH so we wouldn’t be killed. I kept weaving over across my lane, but it didn’t matter. It was 2.00 am and the roads were deserted. I had already amassed three DWI tickets. Back then, you needed six before the penalties kicked in, like having your license suspended.

Marla didn’t care what I did. She was 17 too and she loved me. We would go parking down by what we called “Moon River.” She would say “No. Not yet!” Although it was difficult, I waited. Tonight, I had had a bit too much to drink. I stumbled out of the car, grabbed ahold of a tree, and puked.

It was a birch tree and my wine-tinted vomit gave its white bark a pinkish color. As I held onto the tree, its bark felt velvety—I was surprised. I had never bothered to touch birch bark before. I went back the next day. I peeled off a piece of bark. When I got home, I wrote a love poem on it to Mandy, my girlfriend: “Birch bark reminds me of your skin, it raises my hope that we will sin down by Moon River where the birch trees grow. Oh baby. Wo, wo, wo!”

After I gave her the poem, she wrote back to me on a piece of sandpaper: “You disgust me like moldy food. Don’t try to call me. It’ll do you no good. You stink. You’re the missing link.”

I cried for two days. I went down by Moon River. For some reason I hugged the birch tree. I felt the velvet white bark with little black bumps. I looked up and saw the catkins dangling and blowing back and forth in the wind. The small green leaves fluttered like feathers, holding tight to the tree’s slender limbs.

Two years later I found a baby birch growing by the tree. I dug it up and transplanted it in my backyard. Mom loved it. I graduated from high school, was drafted, and went to Vietnam. I had hoped to see my little tree when I came home. I didn’t expect to die.

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.

Dendrographia (den-dro-graf’-ia): Creating an illusion of reality through vivid description of a tree.

It was getting dark. The woods were changing from welcoming to foreboding. I had wandered off the trail in search of mushrooms, became disoriented and lost my way back to the trail. I could hear traffic sounds in the distance. If I got totally lost I could follow the noise and eventually find my way home. But it was getting dark. At this point the trees started to look like pen and ink sketches, their branches sharply outlined against the darkening sky, living silhouettes framed by the remnants of light. The stars were starting to come out.

Luckily there was about an inch of snow on the ground so I could backtrack my footprints. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? I don’t know.

So, I was slowly slogging along. The snow reflected the meager light of the twilight sky—it was beautiful. The snow was sparkling —this sounds cliched—but the snow was sparkling like the flakes were diamonds. I wanted take a picture, but my phone camera wouldn’t capture the sparkle in the waning light.

Then I saw the mushroom tree—a dead oak with its upper half blown to the ground many years ago. What’s left stands there by the side of the trail. It is about 15 feet tall, 3 feet in diameter, and has no bark. It’s one of my favorite landmarks. One spring it became covered with oyster mushrooms on its northern side. That’s how it came to be named “The Mushroom Tree.” My daughter and I “discovered” it. We went back home and got some old shopping bags and harvested a good number of mushrooms. The Oyster Mushrooms haven’t come back, but other species of mushroom have taken up residence over the years.

I love the woods. Now that I’m almost 80 I don’t go outside much anymore. I am losing my vision and my hip hurts too. I have balance issues and have fallen down several times. The last time was in the woods. I had to crawl to a small tree and use it to help me stand up. I sort of climbed up it.

My house is surrounded by woods. I sit on my couch and marvel at the 50-foot high pine trees. They were 6 inches tall when my wife and I planted them around 25 years ago. They’re just getting started. I’m rounding the bend.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.