Tuesday, June 8, 2010


********There is an 80-foot cottonwood tree in my yard. It shades the south side of the house, which never gets really hot inside, even in the summer. The leaves shimmer in the sun and flutter wildly in the wind, so it’s nice to lay under it and stare at the sky through its leaves.
Cottonwoods draw woodpeckers, which are fun to watch. They have pecked countless holes into the porch, which is made from untreated lumber. I can’t believe how loud they are!
The land surrounding my acre hasn’t been farmed since the 70’s, so it’s now full of young cottonwood trees, all from the single one next to my house. I can’t believe how much they’ve grown since I first met Butch. He and his mother used to garden a lot, but the trees are now so tall that there’s really no sun for a garden!
The cottonwood is flying now and the yard is full of it, and the droppings when the cotton is done. It’s hard to believe that it goes away, but this mess will disappear soon enough.
The tree, to me, is a symbol of the home, her memories and the people who lived here. I might name the place Cottonwood Acre. Someday, I'm going to get one of these pretty cottonwood leaves dipped in gold.

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