The Pine at Timber-Line

by Harriet Monroe

What has bent you,

Warped and twisted you,

Torn and crippled you?—

What has embittered you,

O lonely tree?

You search the rocks for a footing, dragging scrawny roots;

You bare your thin breast to the storms, and fling out wild arms behind you;

You throw back your witch-like head, with wisps of hair stringing the wind.

You fight with the snows,

You rail and shriek at the tempests.

Old before your time, you challenge the cold stars.

Be still, be satisfied

Stand straight like your brothers in the valley,

The soft green valley of summer down below.

Why front the endless winter of the peak?

Why seize the lightning in your riven hands?

Why cut the driven wind and shriek aloud?

Why tarry here?

There is a lot of science in this poem!  This poem  is full of metaphors, personifications, and deeper meaning, as many poems are.  But it is also a science lesson. If I were teaching this poem in a high school English class, I would be sure to take some time to discuss the science behind the descriptions of the tree. The author, Harriet Monroe poses the questions,

What has bent you,

Warped and twisted you,

Torn and crippled you?—

What has embittered you,

O lonely tree?

     An astute observer will say that the wind has bent the tree, and the fact that it is singular tree is important. One “lonely” tree at the timber line (a line marking the upper limit of tree growth in mountains or northern latitudes) would be bent by winds that blow through the valley.   The poet then says:

You search the rocks for a footing, dragging scrawny roots;

This too poses scientific facts.  Plants produce an enormous amount of seeds that are dispersed through the air and fall randomly on the earth’s surface.  A small bit of soil, between the cracks of a rock is often enough for the seed to germinate and then the roots take hold and “search for a footing” in soil within or below the hard rock surface.  Many of us have seen weeds growing between the cracks of the sidewalk or trees taking root in urban settings.  The same situation holds true in the forest, in rocky areas, or as the poem describes, at the timber line.  While the tree cannot actually grow out of bare rock, it can begin to grow from small amounts of soil and debris that collect in pockets of the rock. Over time the tree may grow well enough to send roots into the rock itself, causing the rock to split and making it appear that the tree has sprung from within the rock instead of from its surface. The poet states:

You bare your thin breast to the storms, and fling out wild arms behind you;

You throw back your witch-like head, with wisps of hair stringing the wind

A solitary tree will have a multitude of branches and leaves to maximize exposure to light.

The poet asks:

Why front the endless winter of the peak?

Why seize the lightning in your riven hands?

Why cut the driven wind and shriek aloud?

Why tarry here?

All living things, and trees are no exception find optimal solutions to common survival problems.  By chance the tree took root in an inhospitable place, and thrived, despite the odds, manages to thrive.  Winston Churchill had it right when he said, “Solitary trees, if they grow at all, grow strong.” In this age of “not enough time to teach science” a teacher might seize the opportunity to integrate a science  and literature into a lesson.