I grew in a quiet suburb in Burr Ridge, IL where the streets are lined with trees. Yet one tree always reminds me of home. The house I grew up in is a white ranch style home with black shutters and horse shoe shaped driveway in front. In the middle of the horseshoe, closest to the right side of the driveway, stood this large majestic weeping willow tree. Seeing the weeping willow at the Arboretum takes me back to summertime in the 80's and 90's.
Suddenly, it's a summer evening and my sister and I are riding bikes around the horseshoe while my parents talk to the neighbors. As we come around the right side of the horseshoe, we lift our hands in the air and let the branches of the weeping willow high five us as we ride past. Later on, it would serve as the final resting place for our pet turtle. The tree has long since died and been removed and so much has changed since then, but seeing the one at the Arboretum takes me back to a better, simpler time in my life. For that, I am grateful.
