In Praise of Hemlocks

The things that make hemlocks so beautiful are the same things that make them hard to catch on camera: their deep shade, their delicate--even elegant--needles, their evenly spaced branches, their streamside setting. The hemlock is constant, if not flamboyant, the graceful matriarch of the forest.

Many moons ago, I used to listen to the "Largo" from G.F. Handel's opera "Xerxes." I'm not an opera fan. Too much screaming. But this is a well-known song, sad and haunting. The lyrics are in Italian, and I never knew what the tenor was singing about. I always just imagined that he was singing the profoundest words of self-disclosure, words of heartbreak, words of deepest sorrow mingled with wisdom and calm. Just a few weeks ago, the song came back to me in a fit of melancholy. Google had been invented since I last thought about the song, so I did an Internet search to see what the words really are about.

They're about a tree! A friggin' shade tree!

"Never has there been a shade
of a plant
more dear and lovely,
or more gentle. "

At first it was disappointing. I wanted to go back to a state of ignorance. When you don't know what the words mean, they sound like the Mystery of the Ages unveiled. When you find out that the guy's just singing about the shade of a plane tree, it's a let down...

But honestly, when you get under the shade of those streamside hemlocks and hear the brooks prattling against the rocks, and see the afternoon sun in the laced branches, you could see how someone might write a song about it. It's definitely worthy of a haunting melody. In any case, here it is: Ombra Mai Fu, also known as "Xerxes Largo," by G.F. Handel. (In this version, there is no human voice, just a cello. I prefer that for the same reason I prefer to post photos without people: it seems to express the solitude of the forest.) And this photo was taken in the area of the much-neglected Mill Creek Trail, parts of which are hemlock heaven.