JOINING THE MARINE (PARK) CORE

Ah, Those Good Old Norfolk Island Pines—When Push Comes to Shove! 

I ask you: Is it really possible to write a “nature” article while being quarantined? Can it even fall within the realm of human imagination not to write about the plague which has beset us, R”l? Or is it even shayyach to write about “The Great Outdoors” at the outset of spring when such a terrible machalah is concomitantly raging outside?

Relax, my dear readers: I don’t intend to refer to this mageifah even once in this column, much less mention it by name! Oh, I know that not doing so is a pretty tall order, but in all fairness I began working on this article way back in December, when I first recognized the four trees that asserted their majesty near a well-known shul here in Lakewood. “Norfolk Island Pines,” I murmured to myself, “Amazing!” Interestingly enough, the term “Norfolk Island” refers to an Australian island located in the southwest Pacific Ocean—and not to some place in the State of Virginia. And this tree, known by its scientific Latin name as Araucaria excelsa, is technically not a pine at all! Such being the case, it may seem strange that I chose to write about the Norfolk Island Pines that I observed growing in front of the Westgate shul here in Lakewood (Beis Hamidrash D’Westgate)—way back in December, before the advent of you-know-what.

Perhaps the incredible straightness of the tall, looming trunks (which allegedly became the reason Norfolk Island Pines were considered as a possible source of ship masts during the eighteenth century) and the marvelous symmetry of its branches have helped to make the Norfolk Island Pine a stand-out tree—at least to me. But maybe there is a lesson which the tree might be able to teach us humans as well.

And just what might that lesson be?

In light of the unusual windiness of the winter and early spring months of this year, I could have thought that these Norfolk Island Pines might have become severely twisted and mutilated. Not a chance! They are today what they were months ago: strong, straight, regal, symmetrical, and proud. Never mind the buffeting of the storm winds of the last several months—and those of years past. Perhaps the constancy of this tree was precisely the reason why arborists who had planted these trees in front of the Westgate shul had put them there in the first place: Don’t let adversity overwhelm you!

Very good, then!  Imagine: A relatively small bit of landscaping might actually transmit a powerfully relevant message to a synagogue’s congregants. Remarkable, isn’t it? 

Until you see these four “guardians” in their regal majesty, you might have thought that “a tree is just a tree.” So now you know: At this profoundly challenging time in our lives, even these stanchions of nature, these Norfolk Island Pines,  help point out the strong, straight, and symmetrical way for us to emulate, since anyhow we are taught that “man is a tree of the field” (Devarim 20:19).

Incidentally, you might recall that I had stated at the beginning of this column that I had no intention of mentioning herein a certain universal microbial but devastating challenge which seems to have just recently infiltrated not only every society on Earth but (seemingly) also every kind of written communication. And as you can clearly see, I really did it: I haven’t even given a thought to this catastrophic situation or referred to it at all in this article.

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Not much I haven’t!

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