The leaves on my linden tree have blushed with color—yellow, to be specific. I call the tree mine, but really, the tree belongs to both the earth and the Earth. I merely tend the tree. Soon, all the leaves will fall from the tree and tumble away across the ground like tossed dice.
Last
year was Desiree’s first experience with a winter season. She expressed great
concern about the linden (and other trees). “Are you sure they will come back
to life next year?” she asked.
“Yep,”
I told her. “Everything is just dormant. No worries.”
You
might not think it possible to enjoy a season where the trees strip themselves
bare and all the songbirds flee, but I love the warm afternoons and the cool,
calm rest of the day and night. The skies are always crisp and colorful.
Next
spring, Desiree, I, and my linden tree start anew. I will bring the water hose.
—Mitchell
Hegman
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