When I was in first grade, I made a stapled-together picture book about the pear tree in our yard called “My Friend the Tree.” I drew her in each of the four seasons with me, a smiling face attached to legs, right alongside her. I sensed that before I knew how to talk about it…
Her wide arms reach and summon. I feel the lure even from a mile away. I met her, the giant Grandmother oak centered on an island in the Jackson Park lagoon. In those days, I wore rubber gloves and a mask, sanitized the handlebars. When air frightened me I met her, the giant. Immediately I…
The trees are getting naked around here. The trees: companions in my neighborhood, definers of the landscape, manifestations of God’s goodness, creativity, and strength. Towering oaks, maples, aspens, birch, all tucked between the pines. These wide-reaching wonders now expose their bark, limbs and brownish cores. Orange-tan leaves that once defined them, now cover the ground…
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