Trees

Driving up here from New York four weeks ago I was stunned by the scale of the trees in the landscape of Northern Pennsylvania and New York state... trees that are two or three times the size of their UK cousins and the hills were covered as far as the eye could see. When the early settlers first saw the Appalachian mountains stretching out before them, ridge after tree covered ridge, they must have been equally amazed.
These willow trees at the foot of Lake Cayuga made a fabulous stand in the wind two weeks ago when we walked in Stewart Park in Ithaca, and, we hope we can be able to plant a willow or two on our land in Dryden when we come to landscaping there.

We are both blogging about trees today, I grew up on a road called Seymour Street in the village of Houghton, NY, which was lined with willows. I remember their silhouettes in winter, the palest yellow-green shoots in early spring, playing counterpart to the melting ice on the creek surface alongside. 
It was they that provided a kind of secret hiding place for my reading, my writing, my dreaming.
Here, in Rochester, my parents live in a much less rural setting, but in front of their townhouse is a beautiful birch tree, another of my favourites, and also one we hope to plant on Applewood Lane at the new house.

It was only just as tall as the porch roof when they first moved in 21 years ago. 
Trees and children...they remind me just how quickly time passes...
Judy