On the American Chestnut tree

We could learn a lot from trees. These behemoths have always had a prominent role in the ensemble of natural theatre.

We lose the things we don’t value, and some loses are irreversible.

The American chestnut tree has been effectively extinct for about six or seven decades; its robust trunks, long reaching branches, wide leaves, and tasty nuts neutered. The culprit is a fungus imported from Asia that spread easily by attaching to animal fur and bird feathers. Its point of entry is an injury to the bark of the tree.

What was lost? A pillar of the American town square dutifully and predictably serving its patrons ample doses of shade. Choice chestnut wood perfect for home building and subsequent furnishing. Medicinal gifts graciously granted by boiled leaves. And chestnuts.

A chestnut is edible in its raw form, and functional as a flour for cakes and bread. It can also do more.

At the time, the impending extinction of the Chestnut tree was a shared natural and cultural disaster. Alas, the combined resources and well intentioned efforts of the most powerful institutions in public life (the government, the scientists, the public) were ineffective at staving off what became a new reality.

The grandeur of the American chestnut was never to be beholden again.

Can one miss what one never knew?

Do we know all about those we’ve loved and lost? Or do we miss them precisely because we’ve lost our opportunity to uncover and expose ourselves to those unknown parts?

I miss American chestnut trees. I’m already saddened by the grief we’ve assuredly afflicted our children with.

And so it will be unless it won’t.