Ode to a Tree

esterday marked the demise of the last mulberry tree standing between my neighbors’ property and the expanse of now-shadeless withered grass that stretches out from our living-room windows. I can’t blame them. Who wants mulberry trees next to their driveway? Removing the tree will reduce their car-wash expenses and increase the natural light in their home.

Still, I will miss watching the sun’s shifting light on the tree’s leaves. I’ll miss the shade thrown by the tree and the songs of the birds who populated it. I’ll miss its stature, its profile against the sky.

Thoughts of this young mulberry tree evoke memories of a much larger and older one from my youth—whose smashed fruits supplied the boys’ war games with pseudo-blood, whose branches offered the most adventurous climbing.

Oh sweet mulberry trees, thank you for the time I knew you; you were loved.

[Drop cap by Jessica Hische.]