Tree of the Week showcases some of the biggest and most beautiful trees in the GTA, as compiled by Megan Ogilvie. Here, Debra Mathers tells us why she has long loved staghorn sumac, a native species of large shrub or small tree that we often see along our cities’ roadways, railways and ravines. A recent sumac sighting inspired Mathers to write a poem, shared below.

I recently moved to Waterloo but I lived in Toronto for 20 years and often walked the many trails that wind through the city’s ravines.

I’ve always loved this time of year, when the staghorn sumac makes itself known, its leaves brilliant with colour.

Most of the year, you’ll hardly notice sumac; it blends into the landscape. Then in the fall, suddenly, you realize it is everywhere and so beautiful.

About a month ago, I was walking in Kitchener between two busy roads when I came across a dead-end street that leads to a thicketed area filled with brush and trees thriving in their urban environment. Among the brush were stands of sumac.

As I admired the trees, just beginning to turn a glorious red, these three words came to me: Be the sumac.

At the time, I didn’t know what it meant but I wrote the words down in the notebook I bring along with me on walks.

When I got home, I researched staghorn sumac, and quickly learned that it is an amazing species.

My poem “Be the Sumac” came out of that research. I want people to read the poem and realize sumac is a gift; I want it to encourage us to live our lives as usefully and thoroughly as this tree.

I also wrote this poem as a kind of cheer — a rallying call — at a time when many of us feel a deep sorrow about the way we treat our home, this earth.

Due to our careless actions, we are leaving a difficult legacy for our children and grandchildren, one they will need to reckon with as they grow older. It is hard to have hope.

But as I wrote my poem, thinking of the beautiful red sumac, I felt my words come out as sort of a cheer. And I realized that the beauty of our natural world, including the lovely sumac, gives me hope.

In these fading days of fall, when its leaves are at their most brilliant red, I like to imagine a group of people of all ages surrounded by sumac, shouting out the words to my poem.

Be the Sumac

Be the sumac

Be the tea

Be the sower of the seed

Be the flute wood

Be the dye

Be the panicle of sky

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Be the lie low

Be the spice

Be the bird trip paradise

Be the light oil

Be the glue

Be the lemonaded brew

Be the soft bark

Be the cure

Be the hermit thrushes’ lure

Be the leaf green

Be the gold

Be the burning bush so bold

Be the sumac

Be the tea

Be the everlasting tree

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