November 30, 2025

By Arthur H. Gunther III

thecolumnrule.com

I’ve never done so, but those who do hug trees have my respect.

Native Americans believe they are caretakers of nature’s offerings, passing that on to the next generation. Right, though the use-it and discard-it way is what rules most of us. So hugging a tree is affirmation against that selfishness.

The trees of our youth are meant for climbing, building summer huts in the branches, for pumping legs off swings. Later, maybe as early as the uncertain time of puberty, the young – we were there – might walk among the trees in challenges, uncertainty and wondering who they are.

Even later, in a city park, on a rail trail or on a mountain climb, probably with a partner, we move among the trees in a mental and emotional setting that defines emerging adulthood. Whatever the particular moment, we will refer back to it though the partner may be gone.

Perhaps life then whizzes by in mounting responsibility with economic, job, social and relationship challenges. Trees are not noticed as much, maybe not at all, though there may be the day or two when you simply have to get lost in the wood.

The park bench, the rock shelf above the river, the well-traveled path that yesterday felt the footsteps of your very young self then say hello again to the retired. Even the same trees might be there to meet as old friends.

Native Americans are right. Gotta protect and save the heritage for the generations. Trees are a constant horizon for living.

The writer is a retired newspaperman. (ahgunther@yahoo.com).

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