sketchbook stories: the chestnut tree

arboreal epitaph

“She was a noble tree,” said my friend, the gardener.

“It’s split,” said my neighbor, the tree trimmer. “It’s going straight at the house.”

“Nothing lasts forever,” said my husband, the realist.

***

The chestnut tree stood on our lawn for more than a century. Under her green canopy, I swung. Her branches creaked in delight. She offered shade for summer tea parties. She gave the old house its name. She brought me back to my roots.

And now she is gone, the last branches of my family tree, snapped apart by brutal storms and carpenter ants.

Farewell, old friend.

Chestnut Lodge and the old tree: illustration by my mother, Karyl Bannister

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In celebration of Arbor Day, the seedlings for a linden tree will soon sprout forth a new generation at Chestnut Lodge, just as I have with my family writing legacy. Known as the tree of justice, it’s been said that truth emerges under the shade of a linden tree. It was dedicated to Venus, goddess of love and fidelity. The tree of a goddess, the tree of maternal love. Standing watch over Love’s Cove.

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