Born in the spring of 1825, the sapling sprouted and grew. And grew and grew and grew into the great grand daddy spruce of Montagne.
The sad autumn of 2008 saw his demise. A violent wind, perhaps stronger than any that this 184 year old had endured, brought him down. Grand Daddy Spruce was laid low.
My good neighbor, Hugh Mc, taught me to cut a slice from the old tree. Hugh did most of the cutting. I did the sanding, polishing, oiling and counting.
Counting rings, marking each five. Starting in 2008 and counting back to 1825.
We grieved for the grand tree.
He'll still provide some comfort, but in a different way.