TREES

June is my favorite month. Always has been. This June, however, is different because it’s one of the few Junes for me that that doesn’t mean freedom from school. (Whether as a student or as a teacher.) This year, it’s just another month. But it’s still my favorite. I love the sun, the late evenings, the trees blowing in the morning and evening breezes, the sprinklers debuting all across the neighborhood. Andi, Harry, and I have been takin’ it all in on our morning walks.
This morning on our walk I was thinking about how much I love big, old trees. Who doesn’t, I know. I am no different. My adoration of trees started as a child of Farmington, a town known for its beautiful Sycamores that line Main Street. I’d go on walks with my mom in the evenings under those trees. We’d walk to “V.I.P.” to get a drink, and then Dad or Chris would come pick us up on our way back.
My parents’ house, the only house I ever lived in up to age 21 (crazy, I know), is surrounded by trees. Pine trees, shrub oak, and my favorite as a child, the Quaking Aspen. I loved how the leaves would “quake” in the breezes. As a result, the light shining in my bedroom would do a little dance across the walls.
Since then some of those beloved trees at my parents’ house have died or are dying. Luckily many of them still stand, but my favorite Quaking Aspen tree in the front is starting to die. I know this may sound silly, but when that tree goes, I can’t imagine the sadness I’ll feel. It will be just another change my young self never thought would actually happen.
I am beginning to notice those types of changes more and more in my life lately. Aging and retiring parents, more children running around, less Chris, and fewer times I call my Farmington house “home.”
Farmington made me love trees. Arizona made me miss them. And Ogden is making me never want to live without them. As I walk these old Ogden neighborhoods, I can’t help but notice the majestic, homey, beautifying effect that the old Maples and Sycamores have.












The maples in the front and back of our little old Ogden house make me fall in love with the place more and more every day. They make me want to figure out a way to raise our entire family in this little old house. They seem worthy of the sacrifice.
Recently one of the maples out front has started to show signs of disease. And the other one out front has had its roots exposed after we had to dig up our driveway. I hate seeing these old trees become so vulnerable to the inevitable changes of life. I want them here forever. I keep thinking about what I can do to control the situation and prevent the inevitable, but if there’s anything trees have taught me, it’s that change is the tide of life. The sun keeps rising and setting, and everything comes and goes. I guess it’s all just another reminder to cherish each passing joy and to have faith that in all of this “temporaryness,” there are some things that last.