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  • Trees don’t talk but if you listen closely, they whisper. Stories are carried in the wind and touch the leaves and branches creating symphonies that only other trees can understand.

    For thirty years water droplets reflected a neighboring avocado and pepper tree from the peach trees branches. These three trees together formed a canopy that left my yard in shade and created safe havens for the surrounding wild life. The peach tree is no more. She was my toothpick tree. The birds would rest upon her limbs and do their bird deeds, quite blatantly, right there in front of me, in her branches.

    Woodpeckers pecked deep into the soft peach bark where burrowing termites slumber • Light reflected beautifully on her peach bark, splashing warm hues to bathe her skin in a pink hued sunset • Little peaches so bitter they would never ripen withered on her barren limbs • Outside my upstairs bedroom window, sparrows huddled upon branches beneath the houses eave during the morning storm • Lightning on bare branches - hummers at limbs end • Sparrows preen their beaks with studious concentration across one side of the branch and then the other • The nestless dove couple always fussing with a single twig across her bough • The cooper hawk taking an afternoon nap upon one foot • Me perched upon the window ledge looking out through her silhouetted branches at a sunrise, sharing time within her frame of reference with reverence.


    Upon her limbs laundry hung, succulents grew in baskets that graced her branches . She reminded me daily, while the woodpecker who was ever present fed upon her branches, that all things are transitory. I watched her logs chopped from her body and stacked for a friends hearth. I can only hope that my life will have touched so many as beautifully as this simple tree did. A tree that grew from wild seed and tamed me in her wake.

    Photo: Charlie on the prowl
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