Once upon a time, a solitary spruce stood high in the Swiss mountains. It felt blessed by the wild beauty of its surroundings yet over time also weighed down by the silence of its geographical isolation.
On a stormy evening, as the gale swept through the valley, the spruce began to sway in rhythm. Its branches sang a melodious hymn that echoed across the peaks and deep into the valley below. The tree paused, then moved again softly; the sound resonated once more. Encouraged, it swayed with increased vigor, generating a vivid melody that filled the air.
In that moment, loneliness vanished from the spruce’s heart, replaced by happiness. The tree had discovered music and found a companion in the storm to live and create with. Together, the spruce and the wind wove a symphony of nature, playing music daily and living in harmonious creation for over three centuries.
Over time, the spruce grew old, sick, and frail. Eventually, a lumberjack felled the ancient tree, selling the timber to a local carpenter. For days, then months, and finally years, the woodblock lay forgotten in the dusty corner of the workshop.
The spirit of the spruce was consumed by sorrow: sorrow for its fallen state, for the loss of its wind companion, and for the heavy silence that had replaced its song. Moreover, the carpenter found no use for its timber. Alone and neglected, the spruce cried bitterly over its misfortune.
One day, a visitor arrived to survey the carpenter’s wood stock. He paused before the old spruce lying on the ground, knelt, and gently ran his hand over its rugged bark, as if seeking to connect with the tree’s soul. Suddenly, a smile spread across his face; he had found what he was looking for.
The visitor was a luthier in search of the perfect material to craft a violin. Having grown in a pristine, wild environment, the venerable spruce possessed wood that was dense, strong, elastic, and light. Furthermore, having wept for so long since being felled, the timber had dried to perfection, ready to sing once more.
The luthier purchased the spruce and transported it to his own workshop – a space already filled with beautiful stringed instruments. Without delay, the craftsman began transforming the woodblock into a new violin.
The spruce’s spirit gradually revived, nourished by the luthier’s care and skill. His creative craftsmanship gave the tree a renewed sense of purpose; never in its long life had it known such devoted attention. Gradually, it regained its zest for life.
One night, the luthier applied the final touch to the violin and placed it gently between two other stringed instruments, ready for its new beginning. Then he went for a well-deserved long sleep.
A few days later, a father and son visited the luthier in search of a violin. Catching the boy’s eye, the craftsman presented his latest creation. The child lifted the instrument into position and began to play. As his bow glided across the strings and his left hand danced along the fingerboard, an exquisite sound filled the room. Delighted, the young musician convinced his father to purchase the violin, unaware that the spruce had finally found its voice again. A voice coming from its heart, filled with joy and gratitude.
Once home, the boy played his violin before an open window. The wind soon recognized the distinctive tonal character of its former companion, despite its transformation into a musical instrument. Immediately, they resumed their duet. The spruce was overjoyed to begin a new life as a violin, to have reunited with its old friend the wind, and to once again participate in the creation of music.
The boy played the voice of the spruce with virtuosity and passion, while the wind carried the music aloft. Delicate melodies drifted over the valley, weaving their magic. Wild birds flocked nearby, fearless in the presence of the sound. From close as well as distant homes, people gathered near the musician’s home, listening with admiration and dancing with joy.
The boy and his enchanted violin swiftly gained fame across the valley and beyond. United by a shared purpose, the young musician, the old spruce tree reborn as a violin, and the wind set out to travel the world, to spread happiness through their music.
I recently encountered them in New York City, where they were collaborating with other musicians to enchant the crowds during a vibrant festival of strings and joy. If you ever feel a soft, enchanting melody resonate deep within your heart, take heed: the magical musical trio is drawing near.
The “Magician Tree” tale reminds us about key intangible values in life – resilience, adaptability, creativity, friendship, connection to Nature and arts.
Credits
My post draws upon a public sculpture park located in Sion, my home town in the Valais. The artistic and communication project consists in 17 bronze sculptures and corresponding writings in French and Braille languages. It aims to reinforce the social inclusion of people with visual deficiencies.
My post borrows also from the creations of a luthier in Sion whom I visited in his workshop. His beautiful craftwork needs also commercial sales to prosper.
Cheers,
