As the Twig is Bent ...

(or, "The Sideways Tree")

[The pictures are all up on Flickr, so you can click on 'em to see much better renditions.]




This is one of my favorite trees in the whole world. I first discovered it about thirty-five years ago, in an off-trail area in one of the sections of the Gunpowder Falls State Park. Back then, the tree was somewhat smaller, enough so that I could climb up the trunk and sit on the section that's parallel to the ground. (My being thirty-five years older is likely another factor in my inability to do that today. )

(Continued below the fold)


I can't imagine how something like this happens to a tree. All I can tell you is that the tree is an oak and is very much alive. Its vertical branches (which became its extended trunk) stand tall with the surrounding trees. The outermost branch—the one to the right in the first two pictures—is dead, but still attached. The other one forks into two "branch-trunks" and soars into the canopy, where its leaves mingle with those of neighboring trees.



The tree is a longstanding landmark for me. I discovered it during an off-trail exploration when I was in my early twenties. I shared it with a lady I loved in the seventies, and we started calling it "the sideways tree." It became our point of rendezvous in the forest. ("Meet me at the sideways tree.") Every few years, I stop by to see how it's doing. I went last week, and for the first time ever, I took a camera. I'm sure others must have seen the tree and must know about it, but I've never seen evidence of anyone else having been there. It feels like a personal secret. And, of course, it reminds me of all those corny old lessons about overcoming the odds, and about succeeding in spite of one's shortcomings, and that to be different, even strange, is to be fascinating and beautiful in one's own right.



[That's all, folks]