If Trees Could Talk

There's a tree in our yard. Pa calls it a silver maple. He planted two of them last week. He waters them daily, talks to them, nurtures them. He says they will grow big and shelter the house from the sun. I like the one closer to the house. It is about my height. I talk to it, too. The other one is taller, more like my older brother who picks on me.

The trees are growing taller. The one near our house is taller than me now, and its trunk is the width of my leg. It is still my favorite. I enjoy looking at the leaves when they turn yellow in the fall. Too bad I have to rake them up when they come down.

Pa died today. Mom says it was a farming accident but won't tell me what happened. Mom is so sad, she cries all the time. I sit under my silver maple, the one Pa planted, and cry too. It stands tall, its branches reaching out and protecting me, just like Pa did.

We have to move now. Mom can't run the farm alone and we aren't old enough to help. I run over to my silver maple and hug it, my one last piece of Pa and my memories of all the good times we had. I take a leaf from it to place in my diary. I put a ribbon around the tree as a remembrance of Pa.

There's a tree in our yard. I think it is a silver maple. Its is as tall as our two-story house. There is a second tree, farther up the hill, that was planted at the same time. They are lovely in the fall, and my children run and play in their leaves. I think the one further up the hill may be diseased. It is not as full or vibrant as the one closer to the house.

There was a wind storm last night. The weatherman said the winds got up to 75 miles an hour. It knocked over part of the barn as well as the silver maple further up the hill. The tree near the house still stands, standing over the house and protecting us.

We put up a swing on one of the branches of the maple tree today. The children love it! They swing on it as often as they can. I can hear the laughter from the kitchen as I make dinner. It puts a smile on my face.

We sold the farm today. There isn't much of a living in farming right now. I'm going to miss this place, especially that maple tree.

There's a tree in our yard. It is tall, full, and beautiful. I can't fit my arms around the trunk. I've always wanted a maple tree. If it is a sugar maple, maybe we can tap it and make maple syrup.

I asked the man from the DNR what kind of tree it is. He said it is a silver maple. We can still tap it. I'm going to research on the internet to find out how to safely tap a tree.

This February we tapped the maple tree. I measured the sugar levels in the sap and it read 7%. Most trees average between 3 and 5%. I wish I had another one just like it!

We sold all of the syrup we made this year, with people asking for more. This could be a big business if I wanted to make it one. We could sell the sap to a local sugar bush too. My wife and I will have to think about it. Meanwhile, we are collecting seeds from the tree to plant a grove of them.

I now have 10 silver maple trees planted along our property line. They are all small, and I have to water them every day. The kids come out and help. My youngest daughter says if you sing to them they grow faster. She sings to them every day after school.

The deer have been eating the bark of our grove trees during the winter. Some of them didn't make it. The deer leave the tree near the house alone and it is doing fine. Will have to plant more seeds.

The tree near our house lost a large branch last night in the thunderstorm. I called the local tree guy and he said the tree is still healthy, sometimes things like this happen. I'm cutting up the wood to make a bench that we plan to put under the tree. The kids want me to make a picnic table, but there isn't enough wood. A bench will do nicely.

I finished the bench and placed it under our silver maple tree. I stained it maple and carved a maple leaf on the back of it. My wife and I sit on the bench together and talk. The view overlooks a valley where we often see deer grazing. It is calm and peaceful. I joke that it is a perfect spot to sit and hunt.

My wife died last night. We were on the bench, under the tree when it happened. I am very sad. The boys said we need to burn the bench, but I can't bring myself to do it. It was a place of peace and happy memories and I don't want to let go of those. She would want me to keep the bench to keep her memory alive.

The kids say I need to go into a nursing home. I'm getting old and it is more difficult to get around. I don't want to leave the house, or the place we raised our children. My youngest daughter offered to have me move in with her family. She even said I could bring the bench with me. I sit under the maple tree watching the deer, trying to decide what to do.

All my things are packed up, and I am waiting for my youngest daughter to come to get me. I moved the bench to the driveway so we can take it with us. I am sad, missing my wife. My daughter arrives and her boys put my things in the back of their van. They put the bench in as well. I walk over to the tree and hug it and tell it goodbye. We then drive off.

There's a tree in our yard. It is very old, stately, and full. I can see it is missing a branch. I wonder who planted it? Did children play around it or swing on its branches? If trees could talk, what stories would this tree tell?