A Reflection on Loss

This summer I watched two Douglas Fir trees in my yard go from seemingly healthy to completely dead in about six weeks. Dead needles covered the driveway. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I thought they might be going through some sort of cycle where they shed their old needles in preparation for a whole new batch. I’ve seen a similar process occur in other conifers. Soon, however, I noticed the bark was coming off as well revealing hundreds of holes burrowed into the wood. A call to a tree specialist confirmed my fears — pine beetles.

It hit me hard, and almost immediately, I began catastrophizing the situation, imagining my entire yard a treeless wasteland. What’s more, the tree specialist told me there was nothing I could do right now, that the beetles had disbursed, and I’d have to wait until early spring to treat the trees. I felt helpless.

I remember my grandfather being devastated years ago when hundred mile an hour straight line winds uprooted the four giant oaks that had stood for decades at the front of his property. I didn’t fully understand why the loss hit him so deeply. I understand it better now.

As I reflected on the loss and loss in general, I felt the need to make something. I was powerless to change the situation but needed to process the loss with more than just my mind.

I found each of the small trees in this art installation, dead on the property. They were still in the ground but needed to be removed as part of the ongoing fire mitigation work necessary here. The color progression from black to gray to white, represents the transition from death to dust. Each stage being overtaken by the next in the cycle of decay and loss is represented by the color bands at the base of each tree. The last tree, white with green stripes, captures the longing within me to still hope that loss is not absolute…that somewhere inside the experience are hidden possibilities for rebirth.

Not a revelatory creation this, just a simple practice to remind me and ground me.