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.
But white?
White is different.
White is not for humans.
It’s for the tree.
ADVERTISEMENT