BUT YOU KNOW YOU CAN’T

MAY 14, 2025 – I might have one more tree-planting session this spring, but if I don’t I’m satisfied with this season’s effort: 190 trees, including 25 hemlocks, 30 Norway pines, and 135 white spruce. Moreover, I lugged over 30 gallons of water deep into the woods and up to the heights of Björnholm to hydrate each tree amidst the continuing drought. Late this afternoon, just as I packed things up for the drive back to the cities, a line of thunderstorms moved in from across the lake. I encountered some solid downpours just southwest of Grindstone Lake, but though I appreciated the efforts of the rain gods, a lot more moisture is required in these parts. Forest fires are already raging across northern Minnesota, and the risk in northwestern Wisconsin remains “Very High,” a downgrade from “Extremely High” two days ago, thanks for a reduction in wind velocity.

Three consecutive days of work with the planting bar are about my limit. I then need to retreat and recover. I am not the man I was at 21 or even eight years ago, when I launched my re-forestation project in the “tree garden” of Björnholm. The effort this time around was rendered doubly arduous in the heat (mid-80sF) and amidst the Great Hatch of the Great Swarming Gnats. To keep this winged bird feed at bay I had to wear a face covering, a double neck gaiter, and safety glasses. To protect against the ticks, which are out in full force, I donned steel-toed work boots and several layers of clothing under a full zippered Tyvek suit that resembled a hazmat outfit. The legs of the suit, a pair of jeans and a pair of nylon REI pants were all stuffed into the tops of my socks. I wore true and tried work gloves and an expedition cap with neck and side flaps. This was all well and good as a defense against sun and bugs, but it left me sweltering in the heat and doubtless contributed to my exhaustion by day’s end.

But knowing that 190 trees are in the ground and taking root gives me great satisfaction. Whatever credits might be assigned to my existence, may these seedlings be among them. And may a good many of them survive or avoid altogether, as the case may be, drought, snows, wind, and hail; fire, disease and infestations—and the sawyer’s blade and the developer’s bulldozer.

While carrying a load of water along the woodland path, I found my immediate reward. A large shadow passed quickly over me and the ground ahead. I knew an eagle must have flown overhead, and sure enough, just above the trees was the regal bird, now circling atop a rising thermal. It was not an unfamiliar sight, but on this occasion I was no less awed by the majesty of that creature in flight. Farther down the path I heard a pair of loons calling from the lake. Those sounds too were as common as the sight of an eagle, yet they also stopped me in my tracks as I put down my burdens and soaked in the beauty of that time and place.

Planting yet more trees in these woods brings me ever closer to the sounds and sights of loons and eagles—and the uniqueness of our home planet. Let billionaires colonize Mars. Let ore companies exploit the moon. Show me, James Webb, a place in the universe that can match the earth and all that goes and grows here.

But you know you can’t.

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© 2025 by Eric Nilsson