For years, I’d pass them on country roads and in orchards—trees standing tall in winter’s bareness, their trunks wrapped in a soft band of white, like they’d been dipped in fresh snow.
I’d wonder: What does it mean? Is it a warning? A marker? A message meant only for those who know how to read it?
Turns out, it’s none of those things.
It’s something far more tender.
It’s care.
Not a Code—A Comfort
You may have seen other painted marks on trees—orange for removal, purple for “private property.” Those are signals—practical, administrative.
Leave a Comment