Lauren Denton
I had a dream the other night that we had a big storm, and afterwards, I woke to find a small dead tree next to our house.
I was more distraught than you might think when finding a barely-four-feet-tall sapling lying horizontal instead of upright. But, you see, it was Sela’s tree, and in my dream, I had to figure out a way to tell her that her tree had died in the storm. When I woke up for real that next morning, the first thing I did was peer out our kitchen window and make sure the tree was still standing. Thankfully, it was.
A couple of spring breaks ago, we took a trip to Highlands, North Carolina. My husband has a thing about trees — specifically really big, really old trees. Every time he’s in the mountains, he loves to wrap his arms around any trunk that looks like it could be older than our country. And because he has this love of huge trees, we’re always on the lookout. Anytime we see a tree that looks especially big, one of us will say, “Where’s Daddy? He’ll want to hug this one.”
Our Airbnb in Highlands that year had a yard full of trees — none of them hugging size, but still large — with scattered nuts underneath. Before we left to drive back to Birmingham, Sela hopped out of the car and grabbed one of the huge nuts from the driveway, saying she wanted to plant it when she got home so it could grow really big.
I didn’t give it much thought, thinking it’d be forgotten or lost on the drive home, but I was wrong. Not only did that little nut make it back to Birmingham, but Sela put it in a jar of dirt and set the jar on our back porch where we could watch it. For a while, it didn’t look like it was going to do a thing, but one day Sela checked it and a green spout was growing from the top. She transferred it to a bigger pot, planting it down deep in the soil, and the little seed kept sprouting. When it finally grew roots and a few tiny leaves, she moved it to a spot in the yard outside our kitchen window where we can keep an eye on it as it grows.
A little research into trees around Highlands, North Carolina, told me many trees in that area can grow to substantial sizes. One particular mountain winterberry tree in the Highlands area reached at least 44.6 feet tall. A local resident had an old white oak tree in his yard that was damaged by Hurricane Ivan. He had to cut the tree top off, and when he did, he counted 424 rings inside the trunk. By looking at the placement of the rings, botanical experts estimated it was at least 450 years old. Highlands is also home to a giant poplar tree that clocks in at approximately 130 feet tall, making it one of the three largest poplars in the country. A tulip tree down the road, near Asheville, stands at a staggering 192 feet tall.
And we still don’t know what Sela’s tree is. Reading the tree stats, though, I started to wonder if maybe we should have put a little more thought into where Sela planted her tree. The last time I tried to identify it by its leaves on Plant Snap, the handy little app for people like me who need help identifying plants and trees, the app told me it was either a chestnut or a buckeye. Apparently the buckeye is extremely toxic, so if it’s one of those two, I have my fingers crossed for the chestnut. On the other hand, Plant Snap also gave a few other options, including an Oregon white oak and a pine tree that only grows on the West Coast, so it may not be accurate at all.
Whatever the tree is, it'll be many decades before it’s up to hugging size, but we love it anyway. It’s very much Sela’s tree, but we’ve all grown fairly protective of it. When it was only a foot tall with a flimsy trunk, I stuck a long, skinny post into the dirt next to it and loosely tied the trunk to the post to help keep it upright while the trunk grew stronger. Matt is very careful when he cuts the grass, making sure to give it a wide berth. (Sela’s hand-lettered sign proclaiming, “Danger, Do Not Cut This Tree Down,” ensures everyone knows the rules.) Sela keeps it watered when the ground gets dry, and Kate makes sure the local rabbit doesn’t nibble on the leaves.
We talk about what it’ll be like when it’s tall and sturdy enough to hang a swing from the branches. We talk about how maybe her own children will be able to climb in it one day. What we don’t talk about, however, is the possibility of the tree not making it to climbing height, because why ruin a good thing? In our eyes and imagination, it’s going to be a stunner, standing tall and proud for generations to come.
When I’m not writing about my family and our various shenanigans, I write novels and go to the grocery store. You can find my books in stores, online, and locally at Little Professor Bookshop. You can reach me by email at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks or Facebook ~LaurenKDentonAuthor.
