It was ancient and quite large and very tall. I used to climb up to the top of it and chill up there. We lived a vally and the view from the top was spectacular. When I was in junior high I would get home from school and climb up and read books, typically my English homewwork assignments or just books I was interested in. I'm lucky I didn't kill myself. I manage to find a "safe" branch to sit on up there. Due to, I believe, tge geography of that valley wind would tend to channel through it and we would periodically get these straight line wind events that have become to be known as microbursts. They are like small non cyclonic tornados that had enough energy to snap the tops off of or topple trees and occaisonly rips shingles off of roofs etc.
I've think it was when I was in my 30's I stopped by to visit my parent and one of thosee microburst had damaged the hemlock and some adjacent trees and they were being cut down. It was a sad day. I had a lot od childhood memories in that tree. It was my Zen place.

Trees I planted as a child were ripped out for swimming pools and cabanas.

Me, my parents, and my siblings all managed to escape before we were assimilated by the Borg. We could have stayed and become them.

I believe our distant ancestors, wherever we might be from, had a reverence for trees that modern society scorns. It was considered reasonable in the distant past to mourn the loss of a familiar tree. I believe it still is.

I agree with you about the reverence for trees. The road I live on was mostly farm land and about 20 single family homes down the road. Then the local hospital moved it's location less than 2 miles away. That coupled with the State putting through a bypass very near here caused a lot of farmers to sell their land. Now a lot of high end housing units were built up the road mostly owned by doctors. My sister and I kept 10 acres of my grandfather's farm, and a few of the closer neighbors want to preserve open space too, so at least nobody is crowding us, but the rich idiots from up the road drive by going 90 in a 45 mph zone. I don't even dare stand on the side of the road anymore to get my mail. Sherrif's do their best to catch ans ticket them, but they can't be here 24/7. So I got one of those mail boxes with flaps on both sides.

So many of the old cottonwoods along the river are dying, limbs crashing down in the winds.

… but I can’t do it. There was an old Maple tree in our front yard when I was a kid that I spent a lot of time in. My parents had problems and the tree was my refuge. I can still remember how safe I felt up high in it’s sturdy branches.

Especially when trees offered a safe place. Our lot behind our house is mine. I love watching the trees turn color in the fall, the moon glistening off the snow, and the various wildlife. It's also fun to remember having picnics there and playing with cousins and friends, watching the cats hunt, and walking my dogs there. I think also it matters so much to me that though my grandfather died long before I was born, and I have never even seen a picture of him, l feel like I have a bond with him and my Dad due to our shared love of this place.