When I was five years old
Dad told me, “It’s a catalpa.
See its seed-pod cigars.”
There used to be
a great big tree
a great majesty.
I actually have two childhood trees. When I was between the ages of 8 and 10 years old, there was a beautiful weeping willow in our backyard.
There was an ash tree in the front yard of my childhood home. Although there were many trees in our yard, this tree stood alone.
Where I grew up in Clarendon Hills, we had a large blue spruce in the front yard and two in the backyard. The branches hung down to the ground.
Studded with galls and marked by a long, zipper-like scar, the last of seven elm trees presided massively over our front yard, sheltering generations of squirrels and at least one small human who w
All of the homes were the same Queen Anne style on the short 6400 block of North Newland Avenue in Chicago in the 1950s.
Scott Grams, the executive director of the Illinois Landscape Contractors Association, shares the importance of a childhood tree and what it meant to the kids of a suburban tract home community.