Alexandersmap

    Tag: John Masefield

    • The Fate of Trees

      Returning to the poem The Ship and Her Makers this morning as I consider the smoke alarm in my hotel room that chirped all night. Such is the glamorous life of travel. Writing instead of sleeping in is a habit I’ve developed, and there’s no sleeping in with a chirpy roommate.

      Consider:

      THE TREES
      We grew on mountains where the glaciers cry,
      Infinite sombre armies of us stood
      Below the snow-peaks which defy the sky;
      A song like the gods moaning filled our wood;
      We knew no men—our life was to stand staunch,
      Singing our song, against the avalanche.

      – John Masefield, The Ship and Her Makers

      Living in New Hampshire I know the power of trees. The white pines that dominated the forests were cut down for masts and wide plank floors and countless other uses the trees weren’t consulted on, but they’ve grown back, and New Hampshire, just behind neighboring Maine, top the nation in percentage of “above ground woody biomass”, or as we call them around here; trees.

      “Every walk in the forest is like taking a shower in oxygen.” – Peter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate—Discoveries from A Secret World

      The irony of writing about trees thirteen stories above the largely treeless Chicago landscape isn’t lost on me. Love the city, but couldn’t live here. Give me trees. Walking amongst the tallest of them certainly brings humans back to earth. Forests are the opposite of cities in that respect too. Skyscrapers race to be the tallest, just as trees do, but they’re all in it for themselves. Not so with trees.

      “But isn’t that how evolution works? you ask. The survival of the fittest? Trees would just shake their heads—or rather their crowns. Their well-being depends on their community, and when the supposedly feeble trees disappear, the others lose as well.”

      – Peter Wohlleben, The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate—Discoveries from A Secret World

      There’s an underlying sadness in Masefield’s poem emphasized by the first line. We grew on mountains where the glaciers cry. What a portrait of what once was… we were once this grand forest, now we’re the planks under your feet and the mast above. Such are the sacrifices for mankind. Forests regrow of course, but we all lose something by the loss of old growth trees. Wohlleben wrote that in the quote above; when the supposedly feeble trees disappear, the others lose as well. The others aren’t just the other trees: they’re also us.

    • A Wandering Tenant

      Waiting this morning for a flight to Chicago, and the last line of this poem comes to mind.

      THE SHIP

      I march across great waters like a queen,
      I whom so many wisdoms helped to make;
      Over the uncruddled billows of seas green
      I blanch the bubbled highway of my wake.
      By me my wandering tenants clasp the hands,
      And know the thoughts of men in other lands.

      – John Masefield, The Ship and Her Makers

      Granted, I’m boarding a JetBlue flight with technology not dreamed of in the time of John Masefield, things like iPhones playing music over Bluetooth to my wireless noise cancelling headphones, or the onboard video entertainment 18″ from my face that I try to keep on the tracking map to focus on productivity. Perhaps the vessel has changed over the years, but the adventure of travel hasn’t. Instead of blanching a bubbled highway a pair of contrails mark our previous moments. I surf an aluminum tube skimming 35,000 feet above sea level at 480 miles per hour

      This is a business trip, but as with any trip I try to make the most of the time away from the more familiar. I’ve been to Chicago many times, and look forward to reacquainting myself with people from around the continent attending the same event. And of course a chance to meet new acquaintances as well. Travel offers the opportunity to explore the world one conversation at a time.