There’s the sturdy, reliable oak that held the swing where she whiled away many a lazy summer afternoon, the narrow spruce by the road that twinkled with Christmas lights each December, the tall white pines that shaded the big farmhouse, the virgin timber cut to construct the dairy barn.

“One of the things I really loved about our farm was the trees,” said Marty, whose first book, “Memory of Trees: A Daughter’s Story of a Family Farm,” will be available in paperback this March.