My husband and I frequently travel the beautifully wooded state Route 8 here in western Pennsylvania. Even the median is filled with trees so thick and wide that you can’t see the travelers driving in the other direction.

After all, the name Pennsylvania means Penn’s Woods, and it so perfectly describes our mid-Atlantic location.

I read something several weeks ago in the Sunday comics of my local newspaper. Billy, in “Family Circus,” says to his dad: “Green must be God’s favorite color. He uses so much of it.” Western Pennsylvania certainly fits that description.

The acidic fragrance of blooming chestnut trees has been in the air a lot. I am missing that aroma in my own yard. A couple of years ago, a storm uprooted the last of our chestnut trees. It was at least 30 or 40 years ago that my father-in-law came home with three young chestnut trees. We got nuts from them, but their beauty was always more important to me. The spot where the last chestnut tree stood is vacant now.

Trees have always been important to our family. When our first grandchild was born, we planted a crimson maple. That was 29 years ago. Three years later, we planted an ash tree. We reap the shade from those trees as they shelter the west side of our house.

These words from a famous poem by Joyce Kilmer have haunted me lately: “I think that I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree. ... Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.”

The poem talks about the virtues of trees. Her words extol visions of a tree that is part of God’s creation. It is a tree that stands through the seasons and endures all weather conditions.

Several woodlots in our area have been harvested over the years. A neighbor of mine lamented how the woods on a picturesque back road have been decimated over the years. The owner of those woods explained that they were harvesting mature trees. He said his family had cut trees from that property three times over the years, 20 to 30 years between cuttings.

To one person, the woodland was a beautiful piece of property to look at. To another person, it was a crop. It proves that every person has a different perspective on the value of trees and woodlands.

The state tree of Pennsylvania is the hemlock. When my neighbors landscaped the yard for their new house, they brought three hemlock trees from the family’s woods and planted them so they would grow together. As these young trees grew, they merged to appear as one stout, tall hemlock that is a focal point in the front yard.

And it’s something I enjoy looking at every day.

Gregg writes from western Pennsylvania. She is the Pennsylvania 2019 Outstanding Woman in Agriculture and is a past president of American Agri-Women.