by Joe Reinschmidt
The (not so silent) Sycamore. July 17, 2012. 8 p.m. Photograph by Walter Horylev.I really didn’t think I would have much more to say, but apparently some folks asked to hear from me again. If you have been watching me you know I survived the winter for 2011-12 but that was easy. It was nothing compared to some of the winters I have experienced. I got a little confused by the unseasonably warm weather we had this spring which started some juices flowing unexpectedly. Although there were also some heavy rains which weren’t unwelcome since my roots have let me know it’s dry down there.
I’m sure you all noticed the winter wheat that was planted last fall and was growing nicely until a flock of geese decided to turn the wheat field into their personal cafeteria. I tried to scare them off by rustling my leaves and shaking my limbs, with little success. Seems like the only time my leaves rustled was when the wind blew. As for shaking my limbs I have to admit that at my age there is not a whole lot of shaking going on. I was quite worried that they would eat the wheat leaves down so far that it wouldn’t recover enough to become a decent crop. Wrong again! The wheat recovered, grew, turned golden with ripeness and was just recently harvested. The straw was baled into the biggest bundles I had ever seen, much too big for a man to handle. Soon a machine appeared that picked them up and loaded them onto trucks, and off they went.
I’ve sensed that many of you are concerned about my future and what my ultimate fate will be. I can tell that I don’t have the slightest idea about that, nor am I spending time thinking about it. Once we are born, or sprout and grow, the only thing we know will ultimately happen is our demise. The how, when or why is a mystery that best remains unknown to us. The important thing is that we use the time we are given doing the best we can and appreciate life as it unfolds uniquely for each of us.
As for me I can just say that it has been wonderful to occupy this spot for so many years and I will remain for as long as the Great Landlord in the sky keeps renewing my lease. I have seen thousands of sunrises and sunsets, but appreciate each of them as if it were the first one. Hopefully you share that feeling.
Note: Writer Joe Reinschmidt’s personification of a century old sycamore tree has enjoyed a devoted following of Westside News Inc. readers. The tree grows in a field on the east side of Route 259 just north of the intersection of 259/Canal Road/Big Ridge Road.
