Colonial Cypress

Hiking along the trail in Jamestown settlement, a score of history presented itself. Our trip to Restoration Destination this year was topped off with a historic fast stop excursion along the east coast. Among our stopovers was Historic Jamestown Colony.

While there, we lingered under the statue of Pocahontas, perused the tombstones of some of the earlier colonists, reflected over the banks of the James River, and strolled beneath massive ancient cypress trees. Cropping up amid the manicured lawn, the cypress knees gave us pause. I speculated at how much history the trees had seen. Had seedlings been carried along by members of the Virginia Company in 1607 when they first arrived in the North America? 

Maybe they were already standing stately when the Susan Constant, the Godspeed and the Discovery arrived in Chesapeake Bay that spring. Were they present during the Starving Time or witnesses of Bacon’s rebellion?  Had they seen the peace treaty signed with the Powhattan Confederation?

 

Being autumn, the deciduous conifers were barren. They had scattered both their needles and cones to the ground.  The air was biting blowing off the James, but the sun shining on our backs gave us warmth in sheltered areas. There littered beneath the cypress knees still lay the cones of the ancient trees, deposited in the grass for new future saplings. 

Had Captain John Smith trod this very spot? I thought of how satisfying it would be to have a descendant of one of these historic trees growing at Providence Prairie.  I gently picked up one of the cones and held it in my pocket. I gathered more of the sticky spheres and finally wrapped them in a tissue for safekeeping.

 

Early this winter, Mark and I split each pocket of life apart and tenderly placed every single seed beneath a bed of potting soil for them to have plenty of time to freeze or stratify, before growing. We consigned them to the back of the shop to await springtime and the warmth and water and elements necessary to sprout.  It is nearly time to bring them out.

 

I imagine towering, monumental colonial cypress trees flourishing here someday, their knees pushing from beneath the ground to make their singular statement. While I may never witness them attain their full glory in my lifetime, I appreciate that I had a small hand in making this piece of the country a little lovelier for ensuing generations. And add a moderate bit of history!

 

~Rhonda