Umm...I think there's something living inside this tree.

~Once upon a time~

I decided to spread some happiness in my community by doing some Christmas treecycling!  

I've been saving folks' time by hauling their old Christmas trees from outside their apartments and lugging them to our community garden, gradually turning the trees into mulch, compost, and garden artwork.  I also decided to make little keepsake ornaments here and there for strangers, too, as well as decorate the garden and local playground with pine boughs from the trees.  (Frankly, I wasn't sure if the playground art would look good, but one stranger walking by told me it looks "amazing" so that's a good sign, for sure!)  Anyway, I figure it's good to keep as much of that biomass within the community soil as possible, right?  And it saves me a gym membership.  I'm also considering turning some of the boughs into a Ruth Stout compost garden plot, or at least a Back-to-Eden garden plot for our "Kindergarden".

Anywho, there was this one peculiar Christmas tree that I came across yesterday, and it was...uh...speaking to me.  I heard it (not audibly mind you, but in my heart) say in this tiny muffled voice:

"Let me out of here!"

So...um.  Should I... help the uh...voice living inside this tree?

George Yacus wrote:

So...um.  Should I... help the uh...voice living inside this tree?

You know you want to! Just share with us the results please.

I would love to see your keepsake ornament.

Are you going to make that unknown voice into a keepsake ornament?

I think you know the answer already. The question now is, has the voice in the tree told you how to let them out of there? It's a very interesting plea for help and I shall be very curious to hear where it takes you.

Thanks for sharing this. I think the world would probably be a lot cooler if more people were open to hearing and responding to such communications. I imagine they're happening all the time, whether we're always able to hear them so clearly or not.

Anne wrote:I would love to see your keepsake ornament.

But of course!

George, those ornaments are really a work of art.  Those ornaments are so clever.

I am not sure which one I like the best.  I am leaning towards the ones with 2021 and probably might pick the one with the crown.

You are truly talented.

Thanks Anne!

~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~

Heather wrote:The question now is, has the voice in the tree told you how to let them out of there? It's a very interesting plea for help and I shall be very curious to hear where it takes you.

Well, I must first say it's quite hard to listen to a wee voice coming from a Christmas tree.  

For one, it's quite a noisy world this time of year!  Secondly, trees of all kinds are usually so contented with life that they don't seem to say very much, at least not above ground.  Most of their daily chit chat is through underground mycelium networks, plus some airborne pheromones when they are stressed out, and perhaps some other ways I haven't read about yet.  And my understanding from ancient scripture is that when they are feeling joyful, unlike the singing mountains and hills, trees of the field would prefer to clap their hands, instead.  I suppose only in very rare circumstances would the trees cry out audibly.  Same way with the stones, I believe.  Mighty quiet usually.  And how many of us would listen?

Lastly, if I were to lean my ear in any closer to better hear this tiny voice, my fluffy red beard would be absolutely ruffled with pine needles and ruined with Christmassy-smelling sap!

So the first course of action, it would logically seem, is to move the tree away from the others to a nice quiet place where I can remove some of the limbs in peace.  Perhaps then I can hear proper instructions.  Shouldn't take very long at all, and I have all the tools indeed.

Perhaps it took the tree four years for the majority of its branching boughs to reach their current forms...

^
^^
^^^
^^^^
||
~**~*~~**~

But it didn't take me much time to limb them, even with inexpensive loppers.  They were nipped from the now naked trunk in a mere four minutes.  

|
\|
||/
||
^^^^^  ^^
~**~*~~**~

While making ornaments -- and attempting to free the wee tree voice -- I can't help but to pick up a bough here and there and notice how different the evergreen branches look compared to standard deciduous patterns.  Permaculture is all about patterns, you know?  So it is good to take a mental snapshot whenever I see them, and store them in my mind's recesses for a rainy day.  "Normal" branches seemingly spiral sporadically, but the Christmas tree boughs maintain exceptional symmetry.  Each branch reminds me of a palm frond, a gecko body, a snowflake, fireworks, outreached fingers on hands, and tiny people.  I decide to weave some of the "bough bodies" into the garden fence underneath sunflower "heads".  Others branches I toss into a rough torus-shaped "wreath" around a tree on a playground.  I'd bet my beard that by the end of this week's recess the kids will have scattered the branches all about as they imagine them into toys and figures, too.  And perhaps in recess they'll store up the patterns, too?

But I digress.  Back to freeing the wee tree voice!  

|
\|
||/
||
~**~*~~**~

Leaning in to the now cleared trunk, I listen carefully to consider which tools I'll require...

Use an axe!

At this point in the story, I'm reminded of the Turkish proverb about the forest voting for the axe.  So true.  And that makes me think: Should I be listening to this wee voice?  After all, how did it get inside the tree?  Can I trust it even?  

Best to apply some critical thinking here.  Maybe it isn't wise to use an axe when perhaps a hatchet or saw would do.  Slow and steady solutions, right?  And as the ancient Greeks might say "moderation is best".  Yes, hatchet and saw will do.

Picking up my hatchet, I dragged the trunk aside and got to work mercilessly hacking away.




===) (           <--tiny new Fiskars hatchet

==,= v'==,',,---   <--tree trunk on the ground
~**~*~~**~

NOT THE FACE!  NOT THE FACE!

Well, let me pause right there.  

That's what the figment was trying to say...I think.  

Obviously the words were softer and less distinguished, as the tree's thin cambium layer still muffled the sound.  (By the way, the cambium if you don't know is that part of a tree where one might make a successful fruit tree graft.)  

Anyway, the voice actually sounded more like:

MOP DAT FYSH!   MOP DAT FYSH!

But since I had neither fysh, fish, nor mop at my disposal, context clues and a level head prevailed.  

Besides, mopping up fish makes about as much sense as freeing a wee voice trapped inside of a Christmas tree, y'know?  

After a few moments reflecting upon the silliness of mopping up fish, or worse, mopping with a fish, it occurred to me that I had just fallen victim to anchoring bias.  

The wee voice suggested I use an axe, and I barely downgraded a notch to the hatchet!  But in reality, a saw and carving knife would have been best.  But alas, I own no carving knives, so I decided to put down the hatchet for a bit and swap to the saw.

With every stroke of the saw and blow of the hatchet, the little tree voice became clearer and clearer.

T'ank you shhoOoOOoOOoow muushh!

"You're quite welcome!"  I said, and promptly introduced myself.  To which he replied:

My name ish Shhh-tumpy!   I'm mushhh obliged for you getting me outta'der tree! I've been shh-tuck in dat shhpruce for near-wee EIGHT YEARS!

I flipped the stump of a trunk upside down to verify his claim...

Wooah Nelly!

I counted the rings one by one.  Sure enough, the little voice, er..."Stumpy" was correct.  Eight concentric rings.  I flipped him back right-side up, only more gently this time.  After all, he'd been shtuck ...ahem, *stuck* in that position for eight years.  I placed him beside me, wondering if this was the right decision.

It had started to get cold and dark, and the forecast was gray, wet, and dreary as usual, so I gathered up my tools.  I placed Stumpy in the nook of my arm, and I went inside for the evening.  

"The missus won't mind a little extra company for the next few days," I thought to myself.  

Once home, I showed Stumpy my set of gimlets, which I had been using for hand-drilling holes into the ornaments.  

"I think these were less than 5 bucks on Amazon for a set of 4.  Mighty cheap!  But they were a beast to use!  Though the pithy parts of some wooden tokens took only a few seconds to get through, the knotty parts of other wooden ornaments took several minutes each!"

It is at this point in my story at which I must pause to ~pine over~ my electric drill. *bad'um chee!!*

I also showed Stumpy my pruning saw and loppers (~$11.50 each), my pruning shears (~$5.70), and my well-worn pair of Original "Mechanix" gloves (~$25), which by now had lost the funky smell of summer's compost and had instead picked up a hint of pine...along with a bunch of holes from just one year of use.    My pyrography pen is borrowed, but they can be found for $20-ish.  So all in all, this ornament enterprise costs ~$80 if starting from scratch.  That doesn't include the fancy-shmancy Fiskars hatchet for freeing wee tree sprites.

By the way, can anyone out there in permie land recommend a better work glove?  I learned the past week that gloves are the most important tool for treecycling Christmas trees into ornaments for many reasons:

1)They prevented me from getting scratched up by the branches when hauling the tree or lopping up boughs.
2)They kept my hands warm and dexterous in the cold.
3)They prevented blisters when using the loppers, pruning shears, and saw.
4)They provided extra blade safety when carving with the hatchet or sawing.
5)They cushioned the palm of my hand when using the hatchet and the gimlets.  
6)They helped prevent burning my hands when burndoodling (which is my less-skilled version of pyrography.)

Ex-shcuUUUuuuse me, sir...

"Yeah Stumpy, what's up?"

All that shtuff is great.  But...but..I've been shhtuck inside show long these pasht years, I mish my friends and family.

"That pretty much sums up the world right now, Stumpy."  

I decided to be polite and ask Stumpy more about himself and his kin, rather than blabbering on about tools and treecycling ornaments.  Stumpy then proceeded to tell me all about his family tree, a Douglas fir.

By now there were only a handful of things left to do before releasing Stumpy back into the wild:

1) I touched up his cap with linseed oil so he could play outside in the elements for a couple years.  I also gave him a new bespeckled tunic, emblazoned with his name on the back; so others who find him will know his name.  After all, it is harmony to the ears when people call you by name.  
2) Speaking of ears, I gave him two well-defined ones.  But I only gave him a small mouth, so that he would remember to be a good listener and not blabber so much.  
3) I gave him two close friends: "Skippy" and "Chenry".  One only needs a couple of good friends.  I also reminded him that friends don't have to be close in proximity to be close, relationally speaking.
4) I surrounded him with a diverse and sprightly host of others:  Some young, some old.  Some introverted, others extroverted.  Some prefer to stay at home, but others need to wander off on adventures of their own.
5) I made him a little imaginary hatchet of his own, in case he needed to make imaginary friends of his own some day.
6) Lastly, I encouraged him you to really cherish the freedom that he you will always have: the freedom of the mind.   I encourage you to use your imagination (even in adult years), and to keep hope at all times for yourself and others whenever feeling trapped.  Sometimes you'll need someone else to free you, and other times you'll have to do it yourself.  To help that all sink in, please consider this true story about Airforce Colonel George Robert Hall, an American hero who was a POW for a (literally) torturous 89 months, but used his imagination to keep his mind free.

The only thing left that Stumpy needs, as Cicero might say, is a garden and a library.  So if you'll excuuuUUUuuse me, I think I will head outside for a walk in the snow to the garden...

George Yacus wrote:



By the way, can anyone out there in permie land recommend a better work glove?  I learned the past week that gloves are the most important tool for treecycling Christmas trees into ornaments for many reasons:

1)They prevented me from getting scratched up by the branches when hauling the tree or lopping up boughs.
2)They kept my hands warm and dexterous in the cold.
3)They prevented blisters when using the loppers, pruning shears, and saw.
4)They provided extra blade safety when carving with the hatchet or sawing.
5)They cushioned the palm of my hand when using the hatchet and the gimlets.  
6)They helped prevent burning my hands when burndoodling (which is my less-skilled version of pyrography.)

I'm fond of the Duluth Trading Company "Fence Mender's" gloves, myself. The combination of leather and kevlar has saved my hands many times!