My Friendship with Trees
Colleen
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For as long as I can remember, trees have been part of my life. As a child, I had countless hours climbing into the nearest tree, and staying there for hours.
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Childhood
October 17, 2018
For as long as I can remember, trees have been part of my life. As a child, I had countless hours climbing into the nearest tree, and staying there for hours.
When I was a child back in the 40s, we had no air conditioner, so the summer nights were sometimes hot, sticky and unbearable.
I’ve been a climbing-tree connoisseur my entire life; I’ve sampled short, tall, gnarled, smooth, deciduous, coniferous, a whole variety really, but the most significant tree i
I have a small tree in my frontyard. My tree is not that old but in spring we trim it. I really like puting decorations on the tree on Chistmas.
I was born in Minnesota, you know, the land of 10,000 lakes. But along with all of those lakes are a lot of trees.
When I was a boy, we had an old birch tree in our front yard. It would stand there with its papery bark peeling away and low-splitting trunks begging to be climbed on.
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.
Sometimes you might see me in a tree. What am I doing in a tree? I might be climbing. When you see me climbing, you might see me holding onto branches.
In 1978, my parents bought their first home. It was on Apple Street, a name about as idyllic and all-American as it gets, and perfect for two teachers starting their lives together.
My parents moved onto their Tinley Park half-acre lot when I was two years old. Toward the center of the backyard was an old silver maple. Its trunk measured at least three feet in diameter.
