My friend, the tree

When I was little, we lived in a cul de sac, and there was a huge old oak tree in the front yard. He had a large trunk with three large branches rising out, leaving this little hollow in the middle. Sometimes I would sit in that hollow, and imagine he was my friend. I called him Mr. Oak.

In later years, when I was reading Tolkien for the first time, my favorite characters were the Ents, tree-like creatures who protected the forests. I think still that they must be real, because I remember my friend who I felt protected me.

Now I have this gorgeous Maple tree in my front yard. Over the years as the kids were growing up, they would climb her, and hang from her branches... even the neighbor kids across the street. There is a protective quality about her, too. And I always thought she seemed happy at the attention they gave her. Last year, my friend, Lynne, gave me one of those tree faces. I added it to her (our human need to make everything look like us, I guess), and she stares at me through the window. When Jill and I are sitting on the front porch, we feel as if our friend is visiting with us, too.

Anyway, I guess today is my tribute to the trees, especially my tree, Mr. Oak.