"Trees" #1

Every spring that gossamer explosion of pink, and of downy, almost frothy white... those crabapple and cherry trees of my childhood and that one in particular, that I'd climb- its branches laden with ruby fruit, my haven- my portal to adventure... And violet, lacy redbuds, - the sprawling horsechestnut with it's spiked seedcase and inside, the glossy, chocolate lump 50 years past, it was like magic for me... And now, a fast- forward to today- to the pomegranates of my neighborhood and the lilas with their messy berries strewn unto yards, sidewalks. Being from the Midwest, pecans still fascinate me and I remember the chabacanos of Juárez colonias and the care with which they were tended, the certainty that they'd get scarce, precious water. Ah, trees producers of oxygen and fruit, of much- welcomed shade. Their branches are a playground of squirrels- and birds' handy perch. Trees equal lumber to build homes, fences animal pens and wood to sculpt and for leña for fire- to cook, give heat... And these crisp, white sheets- pages, an intimate of writers paper- necessary for literature... Trees- they're useful and needed, for food and their products, for their simple beauty... But, the greedy waste must stop- the deforestation and mindless cutting down... for as the sloth and the toucan lose their homes, for us, too, the repurcussions are grave... " Lila" is Spanish for Chinaberry. The chabacano is an apricot, and leña is firewood.