For the love of trees, on Arbor Day and every day

Arbor Day is not the flashiest of holidays. It lacks the Fourth of July's fireworks, the mystic of Santa and his middle-of-the-night gallivanting and the pure delight of Halloween tricks and treats.

Yet the annual celebration endures — with the singular purpose of planting trees.

In Minnesota and 20 other states, Arbor Day officially falls on the last Friday in April. But many cities and organizations mark the holiday throughout the months of April and May. Minnesota's Department of Natural Resources maintains a hearty calendar of Arbor Day celebrations across the state.

In honor of this humble holiday, meet folks in the region who love, admire and save trees — and a few who retreat among their branches.

Joyce LaVoie: A dreamer goes out on a limb

The moment Joyce LaVoie read in Smithsonian Magazine about Pete Nelson's love affair with treehouses, she knew she wanted to own one.

Nelson, who now stars in the reality TV series "Treehouse Masters," has built an impressive portfolio of luxury treehouses.

"I started buying every one of his books," Joyce recalled.

The Long Prairie, Minn., woman was so enthralled with the idea of having a rural retreat among the trees that she purchased items for the house's interior before her hesitant husband, Richard, caved in. First came a small wood stove. Next, a red-and-white Amish quilt.

Treehouse construction didn't start until shortly after Sept. 11, 2001. For Joyce, the day's events triggered thoughts about life's bigger questions. "What do we want to spend time on?" she asked herself and her husband. "Do we want to spend it on something we might really, really treasure?"

The answer came easily. Neighbors helped design and build the treehouse. A simple, one-room structure began to take shape 20-some feet above the ground. Tucked away on the couple's 16-acre woods, the primitive hideaway is centered among three oak trees, which in turn are surrounded by a grove of maples.

"Every season has its own specialness," said Joyce, a former hairdresser who has spent two decades working as a paraprofessional in public schools. "When you get out there it is total peace and serenity."

If you dream of sleeping among the trees, too, the LaVoies' treehouse is available for rent.

Liliana Walz Seviour: The young tree-hugger

Beneath a canopy of grand oaks at Island Park in the heart of Fargo, N.D., Liliana Walz Seviour pointed to a favorite tree. "It's that one," she said. "It has lots of branches."

The 3-year-old, who rarely goes without a stuffed and tattered fawn called Dodo, is a tree enthusiast known to hug trees with frequency, according to dad Adam Walz of Fargo.

"I just want to hug trees sometimes," Liliana said. "The bark feels like it can itch my back. It itches my hands sometimes."

The park outing on a recent Tuesday evening was Liliana's second of the day. The previous one took her and another family member to Gooseberry Park in nearby Moorhead, Minn. That park ranks as her favorite these days, thanks mostly to its tire swing.

Seth Carlson: The advocate for reclaimed lumber

By the time Seth Carlson graduated from Central Cass High School in 2006, he had planted more than his share of trees. That reality comes with the territory when your dad is the town forester — a mostly volunteer gig.

"Seth has always been what I call a tree-hugger," said Bill Carlson, who works as banker in nearby Fargo and is still the forester for Casselton, N.D.

Planting trees, camping and being outdoors were just regular parts of the Carlson family's life. But when Seth went to the University of Minnesota Duluth, he studied acting, not arboriculture.

Seth's hectic schedule didn't accommodate a traditional part-time job. Instead, he turned to building furniture. The venture allowed him to set his own hours, make a bit of cash and benefited greatly from the theater department's scene shop. "In my free time, I'd build little platform beds," he said.

Buying new lumber at the local big-box store wasn't sustainable enough for Seth's worldview. He continued building platform-style beds, but found a used-lumber supplier. The furniture-making venture — Ingvald's Custom Builds — continued to expand after he graduated in 2010. "Life got super busy," he said.

By 2012, Seth had burned out. He closed up shop in Duluth and returned home to the Red River Valley. Not long after, the used-lumber supplier he'd worked with in the Duluth area went out of business. He couldn't walk away from the lure of so much quality wood. A persistent Seth maxed out four credit cards and soon became the proud owner of several tractor-trailers packed with reclaimed wood.

More by happenstance than by design, Seth said, he was back in business. His company, ICSS Design and Supply, opened in Fargo in 2013.

The 27-year-old appears to have found his calling as a saver and supplier of wood. He is a vocal advocate for the benefits of reclaimed lumber — which, he said, include curbing deforestation, reducing landfill deposits and promoting sustainability.

He lobbies farmers to take down old barns, instead of burning them or pushing the fallen structures into the ground. His company eagerly buys the weathered wood once it is down. He makes the case to contractors that they can cut landfill fee costs by setting aside lumber during demolition jobs and then selling it to ICSS.

"At my core, I'm always going to be a tree guy," Seth said. "I'll always do everything I can to promote a little more sustainable way of living."

Mark Hirsch: A bur oak inspires and teaches

Mark Hirsch never intended to become a tree guy. He was just a freelance photojournalist, navigating the media landscape after losing his newspaper job in 2006. A car accident while on assignment in South Dakota in late 2011 took him out of commission.

"I was literally on the couch for the next three months," said Hirsch, now 54.

While recovering in rural Platteville, Wis., Hirsch upgraded his cell phone to an iPhone 4s. Colleagues raved about the phone's camera. Hirsch wasn't convinced, but committed to treating the device as a camera.

On Jan. 20, 2012, Hirsch made a photograph of an old bur oak situated in a field not far from his home in southwest Wisconsin. He'd driven by the stately tree for 19 years and never made a photograph.

He started making daily photographs with his iPhone as part of a personal project — an exercise, really. He shared his efforts at varying subjects and locations via Facebook and Instagram.

Two months after his first photograph of the tree, Hirsch found himself back at the old oak again. He made a photograph and shared it online.

"Dude, what's with you and That Tree, you should do a photo a day with it," his friend Greg Guenter wrote in a Facebook message 10 days later.

Hirsch needed nothing more. He decided to photograph the tree every day for a year, and he got to work the next evening.

"I thought I had this great handle on photographic aptitude," he said. "Then, you embrace a rather esoteric subject. ... I found myself slowing the process down. That tree truly taught me to see."

Word of Hirsch's project spread organically with a boost from social media. He stayed true to his mission and photographed the tree daily for a full year. He published the results in a book (yes, its title is "That Tree") and his work has been featured in numerous articles and exhibits.

Hirsch said his view of himself and his work has evolved.

"I don't consider myself just a photographer anymore," he said. He's continued to photograph the old oak — now with an iPhone 6. "I'm actually an artist and it's all thanks to that tree."