One million trees, please

A million anything is impressive. But a million trees? That sounds almost noble. Something about planting a tree carries with it all the old metaphors of "looking to the future," "sinking roots in the present" and "bearing fruit."

"The groves," wrote William Cullen Bryant, "were God's first temples."

That's why we salute the mayors of Salt Lake County for shouldering the burden of planting a million trees. The plan is to plant 100,000 trees on public lands, then entice residents and private companies to put down the other 900,000. Mayors hope citizens will be able to look over a million-tree canopy by 2017.

It's an ambitious task. But it's also a worthy one. And worthy endeavors tend to bring out the best in people.

Besides their beauty, the hope is the trees will help to cool homes, capture rainwater, reduce greenhouse gases and enhance property values. And in a time when economic pressures loom and contamination is rampant, it's noteworthy that humans have, once again, turned to one of nature's most sturdy creations. Trees have been around for 280 million years. The Vikings believed the Earth was cradled in a giant ash tree. The Celts — to be contrary — said the tree was an oak.

Before settlers filled America, it was said a squirrel could start in New England and make it to Washington state without ever touching the ground. Utah itself, in fact, boasts two of the nation's trophy trees. The Old Jardine Juniper in Logan Canyon was putting out juniper berries 1,500 years before Jesus was born.

Aspen trees, junipers, sycamores and Lombardy poplars are all hallmarks of the state. Now, with the Salt Lake County mayors bossing the job, the Salt Lake Valley may one day be known as a valley made of green.

Denver has already taken on the same task, but the city is giving planters there until 2025 to get the job done. And Salt Lake County is at least a decade ahead of Denver.

Time to get out the shovels and hoes and dig.

For, as Joyce Kilmer put is, there is nothing lovely as a tree.