Shoutout to the hackberry tree in our back yard that we think is dead every single spring because it puts out leaves like 3 weeks later than every other hackberry in the area but then later in the summer it's always literally fine
Good evening to the next door neighbor's American sycamore that they bought a lil over 25 years ago as just a stick, which is now like 70 feet tall and extends its branches vastly wide and made sycamore seedlings in every pot and flower bed I have.
She is one of the formative trees of my childhood. I remember, before the neighbors built the fence, sitting underneath her branches in a light rain and staying completely dry because of the protection of her huge leaves
Miss you, grove of black walnut trees that grew behind the hundred year old farm house where I lived as a kid. Last year I tore off a leaf from a tree that grows at the place where the road changes to gravel cut off by a cattle gate, and the smell brought the memory rushing back.
I remember you, white pine. You were easy to climb and so tall I could easily get higher than the second story windows. You tolerated all the contraptions my friends and I rigged in your branches.
I love you, oak trees at the corners of the yard in the house I grew up in; you were like a fortress grove around my home. My mom used to say that all your leaves made her appreciate the concept of infinity -- for no matter how many leaves you shed, they were not infinite.
I miss you, linden tree outside my sister's bedroom. Your leaves were impossibly huge, so it looked like she lived in a treehouse. And as your saplings sprang up every summer, my swing set became like a jingle or enchanted forest. And my mom always pruned the suckers off, anyway, and they made great magic staffs and bows and swords, and, later, wands.
I miss you, mulberry tree down by the creek on summer afternoons. Just large enough for two skinny, squirmy kids to scale, we ate berries warmed by the sun by the fist full. Years later, we brought some home and rinsed them in the sink. They were full of little wriggly worms and we were disgusted and delighted as only children can be.


































