The singing tree symbolizes Momma. When Sal was little, she regularly heard a bird singing in a tree near the barn. Sal could never locate the bird in the tree, which made it seem like the tree itself was singing. Momma had a close connection to nature, and so Sal associated the beautiful, magical singing tree with happiness and with Momma—in Sal’s opinion, life was perfect and wonderful largely because Momma is in it. So, it follows that when Sal and Dad get the news that Momma has died, Sal can’t hear the singing tree sing anymore. Though she, Gram, and Gramps sleep under it the first night after Dad leaves for Idaho, the tree never sings.
As Sal journeys west with Gram and Gramps in the novel’s present, Sal finally hears another singing tree. This indicates that Sal is beginning to heal from the grief of losing Momma—the world, she’s discovering, still contains beauty and magic, even though Momma is no longer in it. And it’s telling that later, as Sal sits at Momma’s grave in Lewiston, Idaho, she hears a birdsong that’s implied to be the same sort of song that the singing tree always sang. In this moment, Sal realizes that although Momma is dead, Momma’s spirit is still all around her, in all the trees. And afterward, as Sal explains how life has changed in the novel’s final chapter, she mentions that she’s back in Bybanks, Kentucky with the singing tree, which signals that she’s finally found closure after Momma’s death.
The Singing Tree Quotes in Walk Two Moons
The morning after my father learned that my mother was not coming back, he left for Lewiston, Idaho. Gram and Gramps came to stay with me. I had pleaded to go along, but my father said he didn’t think I should have to go through that. That day I climbed up into the maple and watched the singing tree, waiting for it to sing. I stayed there all day and on into the early evening. It did not sing.
At dusk, Gramps placed three sleeping bags at the foot of the tree, and he, Gram, and I slept there all night. The tree did not sing.
In the midst of the still morning, with only the sound of the river gurgling by, I heard a bird. It was singing a birdsong, a true, sweet birdsong. I looked all around and then up into the willow that leaned toward the river. The birdsong came from the top of the willow and I did not want to look too closely, because I wanted it to be the tree that was singing.