Our Rainbow Tree

The beginning of the path.

Our Rainbow Tree 

- John McCane



On our farm, deep in the wooded hills, once resided a great old tree we called affectionately, “The Rainbow Tree.” Shaped like its namesake, covered in lichens and moss, a child or two could happily spend the day sliding from one side of its hulk to the other. To get to this well-known landmark, one had to walk to and behind a tall hill on our farm where the land sloped into a bowl creating a natural pond. Walking next to the pond and up into the trees onto a wooded ridge you would eventually reach the famed “Rainbow Tree Road.” The wide trail would lead you through groves of deciduous trees and tall evergreens at the edge of a ridge. Trekking too far off the path to the left would lead you off the farm and into the unknown of my childhood and trekking to the right of the path would quickly lead you to the steep slope of the ridge to the valley below.

Eventually, a willing seeker of the tree would come first to two natural springs that were fed from the hills above the path and another tree we called “The Story Book Tree.” Cleaved with a massive hollow inside where we believed fairies would live; I will save this story for another day. When you reach this tree, located along the stream, the path would gently rise and quickly you would be in the glade of “The Rainbow Tree.” Standing dark and mammoth against the golden colored leaved of the rest of the trees it almost had a personality of its own. Standing mute to the onslaught of history, I have always thought of this great tree as a witness. One of my earliest memories is that of standing within the glade: Golden leaves dripping in sun, a gentle wind rustling the branches, and the sounds of the nearby streams tumbling into forever.

Against this serene backdrop arose that dark and silent tree that so easily held us in its boughs. One so old, I was certain of its permanency and solidity. I will also never forget the day, several years later in my youth, where traveling along that same path to that same sunny glade, I came across a freshly bulldozed path. Nearby trees uprooted and strewn like skeletons. I walked quickly in surprise, realizing that loggers had come. I came to that peaceful place to find a war-zone of downed trees. Like corpses, they reached out to me and then I saw that majestic tree that had been so unceremoniously felled. The giant had been chopped and hacked on both sides and sat in pieces. Even then, at a tender age, my heart broke. My heart still breaks at the loss of the permanency of what I considered one of the guardians of our home--A little piece of magic that had been stripped away and destroyed.

A Golden Glade

 I still walk to that place, almost on pilgrimage. We no longer own the hill before the path and the pond has long since been drained; therefore, I take an alternate route and climb the ridge to the earliest part of the “Rainbow Tree Road.” The climb is difficult and rocky, but eventually you can pull yourself up the steep slope to the now overgrown path. Only a trained eye that knew that wide avenue when it was clear will recognize the signs of it: The old markings of a tree line and the fallen gate in the tall grasses. One of the two streams now only flow when it rains and the other before the “Storybook Tree” has become shallow and thick with mud. You can still get a sense of majesty as you walk into that golden hued glade. The wind still rustles the fiery leaves of younger trees that have taken the places of their older forefathers. They grow larger every year and are slowly reclaiming their old territory. Looking around the remnants of the old battle can still be seen; rotting halves of logs and stumps can be found beneath layers of brown and red leaves. Finally, I step toward a great round and blackened stump of what I know was once a proud and majestic tree that made an impact on my youthful mind. I hope that this small story keeps alive some remnant of that memory and can show the bitter sweetness of the ever impermanence to life and the cycle that ever regenerates it.

Another great tree that is long gone.