Ode to the American Chesnut
Olivia Baradaran / V Mag at UVA
At one point in time, the American Chestnut was the most common species in the forests of the eastern United States. In areas special enough to house this resident, 1 in 5 trees found were the American Chestnut. About 100 years ago, an Eurasian fungus was introduced to these populations, infecting every American Chestnut as each tree matured. The silent invader attacks the veins of the plant, targeting the xylem and phloem. Just as cholesterol weaves plaques in human arteries, the veins of the plant are choked with relentless, hardened barriers.
After five or ten years of withstanding this hypoxia, the fungus becomes overwhelming for the American Chestnut. At the breaking point, the plaque buildup is too great-- the heart finally realizes that it is under attack. It blocks all essential nutrients, and the tree dies. While difficult to see, this is a photograph of the last breathing American Chestnut in the forests surrounding the University of Virginia. As she stands a bit over a meter, the fungus' impact broadens–exploding into each artery of the plant, asphyxiating the soul of her abbreviated life.
While I don't know her well, I know that this tree has lived a difficult life. She silently soaks in as much as she can, desperately reaching for scraps of sunshine. Amidst her fate, she continues. And although her roots have never held nodes with another of her kind, she has discovered her own way of growing. The trees surrounding her will grow for decades to come, oblivious to the fact that she has been dying since the day she sprouted. Oblivious to the fact that they will compose the forest congregation that lays her to rest.
It is not an uncommon thing to be doomed from the beginning. Many times, the way we root ourselves serves as a mere deception. An attempt to display a beautifully lived life, while hiding the hardening veins beneath our skin. No matter how much love and life is abundant at our budding, we cannot seem to outgrow the inevitable. At least, not in the ways that we first believe. In this way, we are not strangers to the story of the American Chestnut. Rather, we can appreciate her unique stature among the understory. Despite internal barriers, we can learn to grow outward instead of upward. We can reach across branches. We can take up more space. We can acknowledge that our fate does not have to become our destiny. Each day we breathe more deeply is a day we defy the inevitable, serving as a testament to the life that continues to pulse through our veins. My heart beats warmly for this gentle warrior as she sends out her last breaths. Her silence will be felt by every tree in the forest.