The Worry Tree

From the Farm, July 3, 2026

By Ron Sinclair

I fell in love in the western North Carolina mountains when I was only a young boy. It was my young imagination that found magic underneath the dense cover of the majestic hemlock trees that grew all around the places we camped in the mountains. The comfort they offered under the shelter of their evergreen boughs made me feel at peace, and happy. And I fell in love with them. I decided at the age of 8 that I wanted to live in the NC mountains forever, just to be with the hemlocks.

Smokemont campground near Cherokee sits on the Oconaluftee River. It was a relatively new campground in those days, and it was where we always went for our mountain adventures. The underbrush surrounding each campsite was lush, and if you dreamed a little bit, it was easy to feel like a pioneer facing dangers and adventure at every turn. My oldest little brother, Steve and I always rushed through helping with setup of our campsite, and then flew over to the river where we would sit on a rock next to the stream underneath a canopy of tall hemlocks. We would skim rocks on the river, get our feet wet in the cold water, and then sit for what seemed to young boys like hours, dreaming stories about living in the wild and free like we thought adults lived. Every visit was an adventure, even after I became a teenager. I never lost my hope to live my life in the mountains, surrounded by hemlock trees.

Marcia chose this place where we have spent almost 50 years of our lives. There were woods around the perimeter of the property, but most of the trees close to the house had been cleared for pasture and gardens. To my delight, I found hemlock trees in the woods! I looked for and found one that seemed just the right size for transplanting. Our son, Chris and I dug it up and planted it between the house and where we park our cars. The tree liked the spot and it quickly became a focal point of the new landscape design Marcia made for the place. For me, it felt like a symbol of the peace I knew we would find here.

Life happens. And after one really hard day, I got out of the car to walk into the house and detoured a few feet to the tree. I placed my hand on the trunk and said “I need your help. Today has been tough. Will you take my worries until tomorrow?” From that point on, it became the Worry Tree.

That tree got a lot of use over the years. When traveling in sales, I left the worries of work with the tree on my way to the front door. When working in the church, I placed any stressful thoughts on the tree on my way in, and picked them up the next morning on my way out, to wrestle with again. The symbolic action solved no issues, but it helped me to separate work from home.

I love that tree, and I owe it much.

Hemlock trees historically have very long lifespans, some living today have been dated to be as much as 500 years old. Ours has been with us for about 45 years. But sadly, like so many native trees and plants, environmental changes are causing them to die. Hemlocks are susceptible to the wooly adelgid, and my friend the Worry Tree is a victim. We treat it annually, but it is still in decline as are the other hemlocks we have planted in the landscape over the years.

Our Worry Tree has served and still serves birds and squirrels as well as us. It’s a shady canopy for our rhododendron, holly, shade loving perennials and azaleas. It gives back to everything around it. Isn’t that what a good life is for?

Damage from climate change is all around us. We see it every day, especially with trees. Red Oaks are affected by Oak Wilt which makes their root systems weaken, causing them to uproot in storms. Hurricane Helene brought down most of the large red oaks on our bit of land. Pine trees, used by farmers in the area as a cash crop to be sold for lumber, are being devastated by the Pine Beetle. Normally they have been able to fight off the beetle, but air pollution has weakened their ability to do so. Acid rain and acid fog has been killing the Fraser firs in higher elevations like Mount Mitchell. And our beloved dogwood trees suffer from the periods of drought we have been experiencing since the early 2000’s. Weakened by drought, their root systems become diseased and make them susceptible to fungus and borers.

What we do in our daily lives affects our world in ways we do not understand. In this little corner of heaven we call home, our mission has been to tend lovingly what we have been given. Marcia especially has spent her energies understanding that our task is to give back to the land; to leave it better than we found it; to make it a place filled with life; inviting to all as a place of nourishment and rest. A garden of Eden, a sanctuary, a bit of heaven on earth. Holy. Home.

And like our worry tree, the land gives us back more than we can ever give to it. Life is good.

© Ron Sinclair, July 2026