It's not "just a tree"

It's not for me anyway. It's a symbol. It's a symbol of the beginning of mine, and my husbands life together - the beginning of the blending of our families into one. The beginnings of "home." I lovingly planted each, and every tree in our yard, watered them, fed them, tried to keep them strong. I fought gophers, grasshoppers, and the darn male dogs who did their own share of "watering." I threatened children, dogs, cows, and horses, and crossed fingers, and prayed during high winds, and hail. I nurtured them, and watched them grow.

Silly as it may sound, I love my trees. They're a part of my yard, my home, my family, my heart. They are living, breathing pieces of art in my yard, and I think they're beautiful. They give cool breezes, and shade in the summer, homes to the birds, a cozy spot for the hammock, and beauty to my yard. They give comfort to my soul. I love to hear the breeze blowing through the trees in the evenings, love hearing the night birds singing from their branches. I can lay in bed at night, or sit on the porch for hours listening to their songs. The trees sing their own kind of songs too - the swaying of the branches, the rustling of the leaves. It's a peaceful, comforting sound. It's the sound of home.

Being forced to cut down, and drag the trees from the canyon behind the house is bad enough. I love those trees, too. They're part of nature, part of our landscape, they block the winter winds, and they're my privacy screen. Those trees have been in the canyon for years, and years, so it's sad to see them have to come down, or dragged up, and away to be cut up, and burned. It's 100 times harder to have to cut up the trees in our yard, because I feel like they're a piece of me - a piece of my home.

So when you think it's silly for me to cry over a tree that was ravaged by the tornado, try to look at that tree through my eyes. Try to see it as the amazing, beautiful being it is. See it as part of my home. See it as something that's more than just a tree. .