The Gazette had a fine editorial this morning, extolling the virtues of trees on Arbor Day.
That put me in a treeish mood (Joy, I’ve coined another word for you, at least it looks like an adjective, I didn’t type “treely”). Not that it takes much to make me feel treely happy (that time I did). For no particular reason, I was also thinking about Hollywood, maybe to avoid thinking about royal weddings.
Most of the trees in my yard (there are several dozen) are still sleepy, just waking up, but I show some Arbor Day images here and note the tree’s movie genre or acting avatar. I don’t know why I love trees so much, except it’s such a strong urge that I can’t understand people who A) either don’t like trees or B) are picky about the trees they like.
We had a young weeping willow in our yard, until it died, and a friend of one of our kids noted that was probably a good think because willows are “messy” trees. While he has a point, it was a totally pointless point. Sure, they drop branches—but they’re beautiful. It’s their job to look pretty and they do it well, it’s our job to clean up around them before we mow—and quit complaining about it, because if we look up we’ll see spreading yellow-green arches of branches that will give us transcendent joy.
If a willow were a movie, it would be whimsical and full of fun surprises. Sort of like “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” A mature willow across the street from us in California had branches that formed a natural bench, which you had to climb to reach, but it was worth it. In my memory, it was 100 feet high, but I was only 4 feet high, so I suspect the bench was probably 8 feet off the ground.
Today, I was photographing the waking trees in my yard and thinking about their personalities and what kind of actor or movie each would be.
The birch is a bit stuffy, entertaining but slow moving, not in any hurry. It’s “Pride and Prejudice.”
The weeping cherry tree is flashy and exuberant, but not heavy on content. It’s “Pirates of the Caribbean.”
The tulip is tall, a bit scary and yet, oddly entertaining. It’s the most recent “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.”
“Lord of the Rings?” Majestic, spectacular, larger than life? Oak or Walnut.
Walnut, to me, is a defining tree. I love them. Many people hate them for the mess they make 3 weeks of the year. But for the other 49, they are ballerina trees, twisted in interesting shapes, with the most perfect foliage available in this climate, attractive clumps of narrow leaves that make dappled sunshine. They kill other plants so that they can dominate a region, and that’s one reason Audrey has won this fight—there are no walnut trees in our back yard. But still, you don’t find nicer looking trees year round than a native black walnut. Like LOR, it’s both gnarly and pretty at the same time.
While not in our yard, many walnut trees have been planted by someone, some “Lord of the Rings” fan, in the woods behind our fence …