Who can resist the temptation in fall to take a stroll on a perfect, clear day? My daughters and I often cannot. In part, we want to soak in the beauty and enjoy the weather. We also know that hunting season and the onset of cold weather will keep us closer to home.

We’ve discovered on our autumn strolls that leaves from oak, maple and poplar trees towering over our road drift to the surface, get run over by cars and leave the most beautiful impressions in the hardened gravel. We pull the stems of the leaves and gently lift the blade to reveal the perfect image of the delicate veins in the impression beneath. These impressions are beautiful and sadly ephemeral. Who knows – the next passing car might replace the beauty with a gruesome tire track – the driver oblivious to the art destroyed.

These impressions are just one of nature’s many simple gifts. Nature holds up to us such beauty and allows us to choose to be a silent witness to it or to ignore it. The more we choose to recognize it, I believe, the greater understanding we have of our own humanity. That’s what gardening is about, isn’t it? We bring nature close to us, manipulate it to some extent, and look at the results. We juxtapose those results to our own station in life and realign our philosophies according to our observations.

Wanting to take control over nature is a common human impulse. One autumn, I thought the leaves from a maple tree near my yard were so beautiful that I cut some branches, wove them into a wreath, and hung it on my door. It was beautiful – for about two days. The leaves fell from the branches prematurely and I was left with a ghastly, odd-shaped twig wreath that was an eyesore. I tried to harness and preserve what was meant to last for only a short time.

Trees serve a great purpose in nature and in our landscapes, providing natural cover when the rest of our garden takes its winter’s rest. Even deciduous trees play an important role after their leaves drop. The maple, oak, ash, beech, elm and linden provide valuable shade in summer, yet allow the sun to penetrate through their leafless canopies in winter. For the most part these trees are long-lived. Dividends gleaned from a seedling planted by us today will be reaped by our grandchildren and possibly our great-grandchildren somewhere down the line.

Evergreens, especially mugo pine, scotch pine, spruce and fir make excellent windbreaks in winter. Although careful planning is required to locate where a windbreak should be placed, planting such trees in a proper configuration will effectively create a living snow and wind fence. This can yield a measurable energy savings in winter.

Driving on the highway recently, I passed a log truck with a bug deflector that read, “Tree Killer.” This was a blatant statement that expressed the polar opposite of “Tree Hugger,” I assume. I thought about this for a long while. I thought about the comfort I get seeing seven cords of split wood in my yard make its way into the shed for the winter. I thought about the warmth it will bring to my family. I thought about the many thousands of cords of wood it takes for other families to stay warm during a long Maine winter.

I wondered, too, what the man who cut down the trees that will keep me warm might have been thinking. I doubt he would think of himself as a “tree killer.” I rather think he probably enjoyed the beauty of some of those trees and then cut them down anyway, because he knows better than most people, perhaps, that the forest wins in the end.

For 31 years, I’ve lived down the road from where my firewood grew and I have a firsthand appreciation of how much energy has been used to grow, cut, haul, chunk up, split and stack our wood for the winter. I’m thankful for the productive land that is open space, free to generate and yield worthy produce.

I know trees had to die for my comfort, but I don’t consider myself a “tree killer.” They die for the paper these words are printed on, but that doesn’t make you a “tree killer,” either.

My point is that using trees responsibly, even if that does involve killing them, can be a respectable thing – especially if you plant trees to replace the ones you use.

Appreciating the trees around us deepens the respect we have for the energy a tree represents. I have my favorite ones, and I look at them loyally every time I pass them by. There’s a weeping elm in Orono, an oak in Liberty and an ash tree in Vassalboro that are stunning specimens. My favorite maple grows in a cemetery in Dixmont. For years, it was the most beautiful tree for miles. It displayed the most vibrant cherry red leaves every fall. It’s old now and the branches seem to be falling off one by one. I’m grateful to have witnessed its beauty over time.

The memory of beautiful autumns past makes seeing its natural decline a little easier.

By their nature, trees demand that we appreciate their beauty when and where we can. They are like the imprint their leaves make in the road. Their beauty is soaked in through the eyes or the skin, and evidence of that beauty isn’t left by anything tangible, only by an impression left on the mind.

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, RR1, Box 2120, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@ctel.net. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.