Trees
Weeping willows always seem sad, and yet they make me think of my grandparents. In their front yard are weeping willow trees. As a child I could never climb them because there were no low branches. Perhaps I always envied those trees because they were unattainable. They also make me think of happy evenings rolling around on the grass at parties, staring at the fairy lights and growing sleepy listening to adults talk of things I didn't understand. That is a bit of childhood innocence I can never regain.
Pine trees will always make me thing of a big cabin. Throwing pieces of bread off a tall balcony to watch the blue birds dive down quickly and catch the pieces midair. Sometimes peanuts would work if my father was eating them, or even pistachios. But I wouldn't be allowed to throw as many pistachios as peanuts. The birds would just appear out of nowhere, grab the food and disappear again. They fascinated and perplexed me at the same time.
Junipers give me a sick feeling. Everything underneath them dies. The grass won't grow, the ground is prickly, there are too many bugs. They have such a lovely smell and yet there is something uncomfortable about them. I remember a yard on Faland.
Maples make me think of Japan and the hills lighting on fire. They make me think of homesickness. They make me miss pumpkin pie and Halloween. Funny that thoughts of a foreign country would make me miss home more.
Apple trees make me think of worms. After picking apples I would be so disgusted when my grandmother cut one open and it had a worm at its center. I wanted to throw it away, get rid of the imperfect apple. But grandmother patiently threw away the worm, washed the apple and kept going. I wonder if the apple pie tasted any different because of that worm.
Cherry blossom trees make me think of cotton candy. They also make me sad. They are so beautiful and yet they die so quickly. When the blossoms fall it is as though the trees themselves are crying tears at having to age another year. Sobbing because they are losing their beauty yet again.
Weeping willows always seem sad, and yet they make me think of my grandparents. In their front yard are weeping willow trees. As a child I could never climb them because there were no low branches. Perhaps I always envied those trees because they were unattainable. They also make me think of happy evenings rolling around on the grass at parties, staring at the fairy lights and growing sleepy listening to adults talk of things I didn't understand. That is a bit of childhood innocence I can never regain.
Pine trees will always make me thing of a big cabin. Throwing pieces of bread off a tall balcony to watch the blue birds dive down quickly and catch the pieces midair. Sometimes peanuts would work if my father was eating them, or even pistachios. But I wouldn't be allowed to throw as many pistachios as peanuts. The birds would just appear out of nowhere, grab the food and disappear again. They fascinated and perplexed me at the same time.
Junipers give me a sick feeling. Everything underneath them dies. The grass won't grow, the ground is prickly, there are too many bugs. They have such a lovely smell and yet there is something uncomfortable about them. I remember a yard on Faland.
Maples make me think of Japan and the hills lighting on fire. They make me think of homesickness. They make me miss pumpkin pie and Halloween. Funny that thoughts of a foreign country would make me miss home more.
Apple trees make me think of worms. After picking apples I would be so disgusted when my grandmother cut one open and it had a worm at its center. I wanted to throw it away, get rid of the imperfect apple. But grandmother patiently threw away the worm, washed the apple and kept going. I wonder if the apple pie tasted any different because of that worm.
Cherry blossom trees make me think of cotton candy. They also make me sad. They are so beautiful and yet they die so quickly. When the blossoms fall it is as though the trees themselves are crying tears at having to age another year. Sobbing because they are losing their beauty yet again.
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