I like to name things. Anything and everything; inanimate objects and those that grow. Sometimes I wonder why?
Naming things was the first job God gave Adam so I guess it goes way back. I know that I name stuff because it seems to make it more real, alive, knowable. The symbolic act of naming creates a new and important link between me and the named. A relationship of sorts.
In the case of this following tree it is kind of a one sided relationship. But then again, not really, as the tree gives me joy when I see it and remember it and call it by name and it also gives a little shade and it makes oxygen that I breathe in. It has a big hollow hole in it, so I bet that the critters who live there know it even better than I. In retrospect I realize that the tree gives a lot more than I give it. As I only gave it a name and a smile.
This tree is right by our cabin road and we use it as a landmark and have named a spur road after it.
"Turn at the Pig Tree", we tell folks. Do you see the porcine head gazing out of the twisted wood? Pig Tree used to be all red madrone colored, but time has changed that. Pig Tree is getting old and its skin is wrinkled and dying. I see age spots. But time has made this tree only more special.
I often create little vignettes about this tree in my head. Like maybe the King of all Porkers had a spell cast upon him and he's imprisoned in the tree waiting for the right One to release the spell or perhaps a beautiful maiden pig died nearby and her lover's tears fell on the ground and from those tears sprouted a lovely madrone oak with the image of his beloved. Or perhaps the tree was a pig in a previous life. HaHA!
You people probably think I am really crazy now, and you know what, you people might be right.