Majestic pine trees, a pine tree forest, on our Sisters of Notre Dame property in Chardon began with a donation of 200 small trees decades ago. Over the years, these have grown to become towering trees, a forest of them. Because they were planted so close together, their branches wove together and formed a shield that the sun’s rays couldn’t penetrate. As a result nothing grows on the forest floor. It is covered with dead, brown pine needles, solidly packed. Some call it the Black Forest.

A trail leads into the forest. A shrine of the Blessed Mother stands adjacent to the opening. A Notre Dame Village resident, Don Trask, recently renovated this shrine, clearing away the tangled bushes that hid it. Now I can see it from my apartment that fortunately overlooks the forest. Don turned his photo of the shrine into his Christmas card this year.

Entering the stand of pine trees, you are enveloped in dim light. All is quiet. It’s like an empty church, a sacred spot.Because the ground is flat, you can easily spot any creature that passes through: a deer, a groundhog, or a person. A creek runs through the far end of the forest, and the left side opens up onto a small lake.

Formerly a bench in a small clearing near the beginning of the forest invited you to rest, absorb the peace of the place, and pray. Now the bench is gone, and over the years lightning strikes and strong winds have felled a number of the trees. These lie on the ground, so the forest is rather like a cemetery and you are tempted to wear a hard hat if you venture in.

Dancing Amid the Pine Trees

One evening, during my annual retreat, I stood on the hill overlooking our retreat house. (My holy hill has since been leveled to make a football field!) I was watching a glorious sunset and listening to Christian music. When I reported my experience to the Jesuit director, Tom Radloff, I commented, “It was so beautiful, I felt like dancing.”

The following day, as I was eating lunch, the director came to me and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to cancel our meeting today. Instead, go to the hill and dance.”

“I can’t do that,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Everyone in the dining room would see me.”

“It might do them good,” he said. “Do it for God.”

I still shook my head.

“Well, then,” he said, “go to the Black Forest and dance.”

Obediently, that afternoon I trudged up the hill from the retreat house to the dense forest, entered it, and noticed a rare place where a ray of sun had broken through the canopy of branches. The sunbeam looked like a spotlight. I set my bag down, put the Walkman on my head and turned it on. I began to dance. At first, I was rather self-conscious. But the more I leaped and turned, the more I got into it.

As a child I had briefly taken free ballet and tap lessons, but ages had passed since I danced. That day it felt exhilarating to praise God with my whole body.

It was summer, and the temperature had to be in the nineties.  After a time, I grew very hot exercising more than I had all year. My heart was pounding as though it would burst, I was breathless, and my face felt flaming red. I thought, I could have a heart attack. I imagined people discovering my body there in the woods. A smile would probably be on my face. My obituary would read, “She died dancing before the Lord.” So, I stopped.

Pine Tree Forest Beauty

The sun rises beside the forest, and some mornings I’m treated to beautiful scenes.

If I’m lucky, I’ll espy a rainbow arching over it,

perhaps a double one.

Sometimes a full moon rises over the pine trees.

Dark days have a beauty all their own.

A snowstorm decorates the trees’ branches with white caps, creating a breathtaking view.

Trees in Our Culture

Trees in Literature

Who is not familiar with Joyce Kilmer’s poem “Trees” and Robert Frost’s “Birches”? Other literary works have a tree as a main character. For example, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, The Giving Tree, and The Hidden Life of Trees.

Trees in the Bible

The infamous tree in the garden of Eden led to the downfall of the human race. Kind David’s son Absalom died when his long hair snagged on a tree, leaving him hanging and vulnerable. Jesus called Zacchaeus down from a sycamore tree and cursed the fig tree that didn’t bear fruit. In the end, Jesus died on a tree to save the world.

Your Favorite Tree

In front of our family home was a sycamore tree that bore what we called monkeyballs. When I taught at Regina High School, my room once overlooked an apple orchard that was a sight to behold in the spring when it burst into a bevy of white blossoms. I especially loved the large oak tree on our land in the country because my dad hung a tire swing from it.

• What tree(s) played a role in your life?

Here is a video I took soon after I moved into my apartment and before all the cottages were built:

You might enjoy this song “The Green Cathedral.” We sang it in our choral class at Notre Dame Academy on Ansel Road.