Thursday, February 02, 2006

Trees

Trees have always been important in my life. When I was five we lived in Amarillo and there was a tree in the backyard that I loved. This tree couldn't have been very big because I remember the branches hanging over the fence forming a small cave I could sit in. I felt safe and it was cozy there. I thought no one could see me. I'm not at all sure what kind of tree it was, but the leaves were hard and dark green on one side and soft, fuzzy, and silvery white on the other side. This was a place I could play with my dolls and imagine what it would be like to have my own babies.

Then there was the big elm tree in our front yard in Albuquerque on Aztec Road. My mother furnished us with a large green and black blanket that had fringe on it so we could sit under the tree and play. I remember playing dolls and boardgames for hours under that tree. That blanket was itchy against our bare legs in the heat but it leveled the grass somewhat so that our gameboards laid flat.

There were also a number of very tall and old poplar trees planted in the side yard at the house on Aztec. They always made me think of soldiers in a row. The large vegetable garden my father and I planted were near those trees. The poplars formed a barrier from the street and protected our garden from foot traffic.

When we left Aztec Rd. we moved to a brand new home on Mankin Street. This was the first home my parents had ever owned. Being in the Air Force we had only rented or lived on base so we were excited. Our first Christmas there we purposely bought a live potted Christmas tree so we could plant it in the front yard after we removed the decorations. I still have a picture of my brother Steven, age two, standing next to that little pine tree. I wonder now if it is still standing in that yard and how tall it has grown to be.

My favorite memories of trees are of pine trees in Colorado. We spent some of our vacations at my fathers' family home in Buena Vista. This was a property with a home, barn, irrigation ditches, apple orchard, and alfalfa fields. Next to the home were very old and tall pine trees that had been planted next to the homes original front door. At some point, that front room became the bedroom that my brother Paul and I slept in when we visited. One memorable summer day, I laid in that front bedroom with the door to the front porch open listening to the wind blow through those pine trees. I will never forget that moment in time. The mountain air was magical as the wind blew and whispered softly with the sweet alfalfa adding it's own fragrance. I was old enough to wonder how many of my family members had heard that same sweet sound. Perhaps my great grandmother was singing a lullaby to me with a Scottish lilt?

There were other pine trees and quaking Aspens at Cottonwood Lake on Mt. Princeton just up the mountain from my grandmothers home. This is my favorite place on earth and I hope someday to go back and take my grandboys. Paul and I spent many happy hours there chasing each other around the edge of the lake and then chasing the chipmunks that ran away. What sweet and joyous memories those are.

And now ~ there are the walnut trees at Pleasant Retreat Cemetary in Tyler, Texas. Big, majestic trees with a song from the warm East Texas wind. As they have done over a century, they provide protection, beauty, and strength as they tower over those I loved beyond words.

What memories of trees rest gently in your mind?