My tree

On the rear grounds of the college where I work there is a large lawn of lush grass and smack dab in the middle of it is a magnificent tree.  There are lots of other trees of varying sizes around as well but I am particularly taken with this tree's thick knobby trunk and splaying canopy.  This fall its leaves have been inordinately lovely and I have been thoroughly enjoying their splendor.   

When I walk past my tree (yes, let's call it my tree, shall we?) which stands so proudly in its featured position, I like to imagine how long it's been there and how many other people - who are now long gone from this place - have walked beneath its  strong crooked branches.  Were they in a hurry when they walked by?  Did this tree make them pause for a moment to wonder how such a tiny seed could become such a mighty thing?  Did they try to guess its age, how many times it had seen each season, the changes it endures as each year it grows not only taller and broader, but also drops its many thousand leaves in fall only to bud bright green replacements each spring?  Did they stop to eat their lunch and appreciate the cool shade it provided in summer?  Or did they pass by without even noticing the hundreds of shades of greens and then yellows and then oranges and browns it produced?  Did they curse when they tripped over its knobby roots which stretch in all directions?  What has this old tree seen?  And could I somehow learn its story if I listened closely enough?

I like trees.  Old trees remind me of old people.  Each has a thousand stories to tell.  Each is a treasure that is often overlooked or taken for granted.  And I'd like to think that each is full of wisdom and that if I listen closely enough, they might share a little with me...

Oh lovely leaves!

A couple of weeks ago Nora and I hopped on my bike and I took her to see this tree that I've claimed as my own.  The lawn below its branches had transformed into a thick carpet of orange and yellow leaves which had gently fallen over the course of a week or two. Oxford had been uncharacteristically dry that week making for soft rather than soggy leaves - perfect for piling up and jumping into.  So, this was our chance to delight in the wonder of fall before it was gone for another year.



Below are a few of my favorite shots from the day.  Enjoy!

Definitely her fake smile.

Whoa.

Knee deep.

You should have heard her giggle after being flopped into a great big pile of leaves! 

Let's do it again!

Nora found a tree a little more her size...

and did a little climbing.

She didn't want to get down for quite some time.

Then she climbed onto a bench to rest.

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Love.

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The noisy man with the leaf blower has come and gone and taken away almost every trace of our luscious fall carpet.  My tree's branches are bare and make a stunning pattern against the pale, gray sky.  We've had lots of cold, wind, and rain since this day of fall bliss.  

Winter is surely on its way.