Cat's Apricot Tree

The old house we moved into after the divorce had a giant apple tree with a tree hut built into the branches. We played there often. The little kids could not climb up until they were no longer toddlers. I enjoyed playing there with my sisters, but I had another tree that I liked even better.


Toward the back of our yard was a huge, old apricot tree. It was covered with thick branches and green foliage. Because this tree was so big, I could climb up the sturdy branches and perch where no one could see me. I spent many hours in that tree. I felt safe – like no person could see me, touch me, or hear me when I was tucked into the leafy branches. I was free from the pestering of siblings and parents. The tree was my calm and quiet friend.

Mom would come outside and call, “Jane, Jane.” But I wouldn’t answer her. No person, not even my mom could know about my secret safe place. I felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to answer, “Here I am.” I would wait until she went back into the house, climb down quickly, and run inside to see what she wanted. My tree stayed safe for about two years.

One late spring after the tree had leafed out, we had a horrible blizzard. Between the wind and the weight of the snow on the leafed out branches, my safe place was torn out by the roots and flattened to the ground. I mourned my tree. I wanted my step-dad to be able to right it and put the roots back into the ground. He said it wouldn’t work because too many of the roots had been broken off – only a few remained. I knew he was right, but I wanted him to try to save its life. I kept thinking, ‘He won’t even try.’ My young mind didn’t even consider the size of the tree – it would have taken a crane to lift it.

I felt horrible as the tree was cut into pieces small enough to take away. Mom had taught us that if we sinned there was a price that had to be paid. If we didn’t pay the price for our sin then someone else would have to pay the price for us – meaning that someone we loved may get hurt or sick. I knew I was guilty. I had killed my tree – my safe spot – because I hadn’t answered Mom when she called out to me. My tree paid the price for my sin. I cried for my tree; I missed it so much. I was nervous again because I had no safe place to go anymore. There was no place for me to hide so that I could recharge.

Now that I am older, I realize that the tree didn’t die because I was naughty; it died because of the snow storm. God wasn’t punishing me. I did learn that quite often I prefer my plant friends to humans; trees never lie to me or make up stories to scare me into being good. I mourned more for that tree than for some of my friendships and relationships that have ended. Trees give – they never take. That tree belonged to Cat. It was her safe place. In her emotional safe place that tree still exists – only now it has a house in it so that she doesn’t have to come down unless she wants to.

One time I lived in a house that had no trees, I thought I would die for want of them. As I drove down streets, I would imagine a giant machine that could dig a tree and put it in my yard. The house was a rental, so we couldn’t even plant a tree in the yard. Luckily I didn’t live there very long.

If you are having a tough day, go out and meet a tree. If you can’t climb it, sit and let it support your back. Feel the strength and power in the tree. Listen to the breeze ruffle the leaves – they often sound like wind chimes. I swear trees have a life force that helps recharge a person’s batteries. I am grateful for trees.

Birds, Nest, and Trees

Even though it has been snowing on and off all day, look at what is under my deck! I think spring may actually be here – I hope Old Man Winter takes the hint and goes away.

I don’t know what kind of bird this is, but it looks like we will have baby birds. I know that birds can be protective, so I hope they don’t dive bomb us while we work and play in our yard.

Last year several large birds started building nests under the deck, but we were able to remove the nests before they completed them. We don’t want the birds to pester the kids when they play outside. This year, because it has been so cold, we didn’t see this one until it was too late. My husband wanted to take it down, but I didn’t have the heart. I hope these birds will return my sappiness and leave the kids alone when they are outside. I’m quite excited; I hope I can get some pictures of the babies. It is hard to get a good angle because I have to photograph them from below.

When I was four or five years old, I was obsessed with trees and nests. I loved sitting in the canopy of a tree hidden by leaves while the gentle breeze swayed and rocked both me and the tree. Trees carry such a feeling of safety, protection, and peace. I discovered quite by accident that if I put grass into a coffee can, added water, and set it in the sun, the grass would dry hard into the shape of a nest. Because it was grass, when I added the water, it would stink to high heaven before it dried, but once it was completely dry it no longer smelled like fresh manure. When my little nest was dry, I would hold it carefully in one hand and use my other hand and elbow to climb high into a tree and tenderly place the nest in the forks of a branch.

One day, just as I was high enough to place the grass nest, I slipped. The fall seemed to happen in slow motion. The branches scratched at me at I brushed through them. I tucked the nest closer to my body to keep it safe, wondered if I would die when I hit the ground, and landed with an “oomph”. I lay dazed for several minutes. I wasn’t dead. The nest was unbroken, but my hand didn’t smell very good; I must have gripped it a little to hard on the way down, and it was still a little damp in the middle. My shoulder and arm aching, I slowly sat up and rested for a few minutes, then trembling from adrenaline and pain rose to my feet. I felt shaky, but I climbed back up that tree and placed the nest where a bird family could find it. Periodically, I climbed the trees to see if any birds had found the grass nests, but they were always empty. I wondered why they didn’t like my little nests – they looked just like the real thing.

Last year, when we pulled the partially made nests down from under our deck, I discovered that my grass nests were nothing like a real bird's nest. We gave the most finished one to my child’s kindergarten teacher. That nest had bigger pieces of vegetation on the outside, and smaller and softer pieces of vegetation on the inside. The whole nest was lined with mud throughout the layers. I didn’t know that birds knew about adobe. I can see why a nest is warm enough for the eggs to hatch yet stays cool when the weather is bad. I wish we had a video camera watching them while they built it. I would love to see how birds carry the mud. I can’t imagine that a beak would hold a lot of mud; they must have to make so many, many trips – and to think they do it all without hands.

I’ll keep you posted on our bird family.

By the way, the spring flowers are lovely - a bit snow covered, but lovely.
Bleeding hearts:

A close-up of the bleeding hearts.

Tulips ten days ago:

 

Tulips Today:

Plants, Trees, and other Growing Things

We made it home safely. I was greeted by the happy smiling faces of spring. It is officially here in my garden. Proof:

The daffodils opened while we were gone. They are splashed with dirt from the rain, but they are open and I feel happy looking at them. 

One of my other favorites is not yet in all their glory, but they are getting there.

The bleeding hearts are just beginning to bloom.

I promised you some pictures from Zion National Park, so here they are. If you haven't ever been, it is well worth going. My pictures do not do it justice.

This is the Great White Throne. It kind of hides even though it is gigantic. It looks almost like a ghost.

The Three Patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (from left to right)

Another beautiful formation.

As I looked at the plant life at Zion, I realized that trees and plants are similar to people.  Some, like this tree, live and aspire to great heights, achieve those heights, but still die alone.

Some get toppled over by life's storms, but still manage to grow and reach for the good in the world.

Some live life in dangerous situations. They can see the danger hanging over them, but choose to stay put. Sometimes they are so use to danger that they are comfortable being there; other times they are naive and don't know any better; still others feel they have something to prove just by existing where others can not, and some know there is danger but stay and complain and make everyone around them miserable instead of trying to do something to change their situation.

Some are curvy and others are straight - body types. This can also be compared to the artistic type verses the computer programmer type.

Even after some are dead, their legacy lives in all their adventures - their twists and turns show the richness of their lives.

Some appear interesting but upon closer examination you find . . .

they are so hollow you can see right through them.

And some have no heart left at all.

Others are afraid of what they see, so they bury their head in the sand thinking they can hide from life.

Some feel they can use the strength of others to hold them up, but then get greedy . . .

and soon . . .













They find there is nothing left for them to hold on to when what they thought would hold them up tumbles underneath their weight.

Some either begin life with a great burden on their shoulders, or . . .

perhaps that great burden landed on them at some point in their life, but they choose to do the best they can with what they have been given and grow anyway.

And finally, some because of acts of man and nature have hardship come into their lives, but they are able to send as many roots out as they need to in order to survive and thrive. This beautiful live tree can be found at the end of the paved walkway to the narrows. It has a boulder on one side, the trail and brick wall on the other, and the river eating at its roots, but still it sends out as many roots as it needs to succor the whole.

If you chance to meet a person with D.I.D., I hope you will think of this tree with all its many roots that strengthen the whole and allow it to live in an impossible situation. This tree found a way to live by creating more parts.