The Mighty Cottonwood

There is nothing quite like a tree. I love the sight and smells of all flowering trees, but especially the pink crabapple trees that bloom so beautifully most springs--except, sadly, not for this year's too-cold spring. The majestic oak trees, with their acorns, have always fascinated me, and the vibrant, orange, sugar maples in Michigan are without comparison in the fall. But here in Nebraska, nothing can compare to our state tree, the mighty Cottonwood.

One of many Cottonwoods at Scottsbluff's Riverside Park.

I'm not talking about the newer, cottonless, ornamental trees, erroneously called Cottonwoods in spite of their relatively wimpy appearance and inherent lack of cotton. The trees I love the most are decades old, or even a century or more in age, stretching their branches heavenward, with trunks that can only be encircled by several people clasping hands around a tree. 

Shimmering leaves.

The shade of a magnificent Cottonwood provides a refreshingly cool sanctuary on a sweltering summer day. I love their shimmering green leaves, dancing in the breeze, changing from dark to light green, and every shade in between, as they reflect the sparkling sunlight. When the branches wave in the wind, and the leaves rustle as they are blown to and fro, the music of the Cottonwood is unmatched by any other tree. 

Scotts Bluff peaks out through the Cottonwoods near the YMCA Camp.

All my life, I've heard people complain about the cotton that wafts through the air every summer, settling on otherwise pristine lawns, in bushes, and wherever else the wind choses to blow it. But, to me, the pervasive cotton just adds to the magic of the Cottonwood.

The Lord God made all sorts of trees grow up from the ground—trees that were beautiful and that produced delicious fruit. Genesis 2:9

Here in Nebraska, Cottonwood trees grow along the river banks and near the streams and ponds scattered across the state. Did you know that Nebraska has more miles of rivers and creeks than any other state in the US? It's no wonder we have so many Cottonwoods, which love the wetlands that provide ample water for each Cottonwood's shallow root system. 

Cottonwoods love wetlands.

I love the reflections of the clouds and the cottonwoods in this pond, on the west side of Riverside Park.

  

Unfortunately, those shallow roots are easily uprooted, causing numerous Cottonwood casualties from tornadoes and even straight line winds.

One summer, when Erin and Meagan were very young, we visited my Mom and Dad in Fairbury for a few days. It turned out to be an ill-fated trip, because four-year-old Erin needed to be rushed to the clinic to have her nearly-severed finger reattached after it was caught in an exercise bike chain. (Her finger recovered completely, and she grew to play the piano very well in spite of her early injury.) That same night, after Mom and the girls were in bed, we were roused by a tornado warning, so we all sheltered in the basement bathroom, with one-year-old Meagan oblivious to the storm, asleep in the bathtub, while the rest of us shuddered at the ominous sound of a freight train roaring through the backyard. We should have realized that we had lost the Cottonwoods, in the field behind the house, when several power company trucks drove through the yard to fix the downed lines in the adjoining pasture.

The next morning, we were pleased to find that the house had withstood the storm with little damage, just a broken light outside the basement door. It was mid-morning before anyone noticed that several huge, old Cottonwoods had been uprooted during the storm. It was a devastating loss, because trees of that age are practically irreplaceable.

Erin, with her bandaged left hand, sitting on a downed Cottonwood.

I have never lived in a house with a Cottonwood in the yard. In town, such trees are usually found in parks or near homes with very large yards. There are few Cottonwoods here in Gering, but I have found plenty in the nearby parks, along the North Platte River, and bordering the readily-accessible bike paths and hiking trails in our area, so I don't have to go far to find a mighty Cottonwood.

Here, the Monument is accented by a trio of trees: Cottonwoods, of course.