"We spend a lot of time walking our dogs in COMO Park. I fell in love with this tree the first time I saw it there and my eyes always seek it out when I am near. I have never thought about what type of tree it is, but will take a closer look this week to determine that as well. We were at the Ordway last evening for Nalini’s talk and I loved it so much! I wished my daughters and others I love could have been there as well. We were in Costa Rica in January very near to Monteverde, and the cloud forest near Mindo, Ecuador just a couple weeks ago (we are avid birders) and I was so aware of the canopy and the beauty of the epiphytes! Thank you so much for the work you do."

"I was at Nalini's presentation at the Ordway Center in St. Paul, MN, last night, terrific program, much appreciated. Here is my tree tribute. Ode to the Oaks I stepped outside to take a break from caring for Jesse. It was one of those incredible early March days teasing of spring just weeks away. The breeze was still stiff but out of the south. As I listened to the world coming back to life all around me, the wind whispered through the stubborn oak leaves and I realized, before me stood a couple who had weathered many a storm, who had loved and lost through many more seasons than I have known. The two old oaks stand too perfectly together to be a coincidence. Their beauty is now mostly higher up, both having lost sizeable limbs, a few of which are returning to the earth below. The one on the left has a large hole just above what remains from a large fallen limb. Depending on the season or even the time of day, different creatures call the hole home finding shelter from a storm or maybe a predator on the prowl. The few massive limbs that do remain on both, stretch toward the lake and reach a little toward each other. They seem made for each other. I wonder, were they planted long ago as a memorial to unknown lovers buried here on the hillside overlooking our little lake. Or are they, as I suspect, lovers in their own right. Could it be their eternal embrace goes unseen, arms entwined beneath the grassy slope? They stand a reflection of each other, tall and straight, never beyond each other’s gaze, close, yet yielding enough space to grow independently together. Each spring their eternal vows renew amidst bouquets of green leaves with tiny acorns askew. They have eyes only for each other now no others their age remain. Alone they tower above, having earned a clear view of countless sunrises and star-filled nights. Standing beneath them, between them, you can sense such comfort in their shadow, such strength in their years. Certainly people have come and gone, friendships have lived out their time, generations of creatures have found shelter and nourishment in their majesty. What histories have they witnessed? I would like to ask them, “How has the sky changed? Are there as many stars tonight as when you first glimpsed the moon? How many great men have come and gone in the seasons you have seen? How many promises made and broken, how many lives forgotten? Do you know how to make love last?” The two oaks live uniquely in this world, a synthesis of the winged, the two-legged and the earth below. Taking only what they need from the earth, the sun and the rain, they turn these gifts into a long life of service to creatures large and small. We often fail to appreciate such philanthropy. We live in the midst of many communities. Some we readily see, others comprise the landscape of our lives. How much are we like trees? Compared to a great oak, our lives are short. We spend ours searching often for what we cannot find, while they remain planted in one place, a beacon in an ever- changing storm. Limbs lost to summer thunder or winter’s dark cold, the toll taken by relentless drought and trunks tested by disease all testify that no life worth living is free from adversity. The oaks do not pass judgment, realizing that success in the moment, like failure, is fleeting. In the end, it is the whole body of work that must stand the test of time and therein lays their wisdom. Learn from their example. Doing things in life we are afraid to do makes us stronger. Recognize generosity is a responsibility – making a difference in a single life makes all of us better. As I turned to go back inside, I could see Jesse, his cloudy brown eyes fixed on the oaks. In that instant, there was peace. They understood. Their leaves rustled as if to say, “It’s okay.”

"The Cedar Tree The sounds of the train echoed in the distance. But, I focused on the sounds in closer proximity, like the chickadees chirping, and the wind blowing. I looked up at the canopy, it was full of dark chestnut branches reaching out like arms, extending into smaller sections. The sun shone through the lush leaves, it was a perfect day. I felt the grooves of the bark under my fingertips, and could smell a faint scent of pine, freshly covered with dewdrops. "Hey! Up here!" My gaze shifted above me. Lounging on the thick branch was my cousin, her brown hair illuminated by the sun's glow. "Bet you can't catch me." She chuckled. She scaled up the tree reaching for the firm branches above, and I soon followed. I placed my foot on the indents of the thick trunk, a little uneasy at first. I leaned in and clutched the next branch tightly. I finally lifted my body off the ground and onto the U shaped branch my cousin had left a moment ago. I gripped the trunk tightly, looking down already. I gulped, it seemed so high. I heard her laughs from above, and I continued my ascent to the top. With each foot and arm, my body worked in a rhythm with my breath. And it didn't seem so scary anymore. I didn't worry about what was on the ground, just what was ahead of me. I had my left foot steady on a thick branch, but I was lifting my right to the next one, it was a little thinner. Suddenly, as I stepped my right foot down, I heard a snap. The small twig like arm plummeted to the ground. I winced, closing my eyes as I heard the thump. I clasped the trunk as tight as I could, with both my arms around the rough edges, almost as an embrace. I slowly looked down. I was frozen. I didn't know how I got up so far, but i don't think I could get down. "Help!" I yelled to my cousin above. She stared down at me, unfazed. "You okay?" I nodded swiftly, but I didn't move. She noticed and climbed down to my branch like it was a breeze. We stood together on the branch for a moment. We looked up together. The branches just seemed to get smaller and smaller. "I don't know if I can do it." I toldher, still holding on. She looked at me, Her hands reaching up to firmly grip the branch. "It's steady, see?" I watched in awe she pushed her hands down, using her body weight to lunge herself up. She turned around with ease. She reached her hand out. "Just breathe, let your body do the work." I nodded, taking her advice. I took a deep breath, feeling the air enter my lungs, and slowly out. I felt determined. I loosened my grip on the trunk's bark, before letting go fully. I stood for a moment, regaining my balance, before accepting her hand. She helped pull me up, along with me using my legs to propel my body up. Finally out of breath, I met her on the new branch. Filled with confidence, We looked at each other grinning. "Let's do this. Together." She said. We continued through the tree with ease, all my worries finally washed away. Together we were careful picking each new branch to step on, testing them out before fully moving ahead. As i reached the final branch I could stand on, I looked out across the horizon. My eyes were met with the sparkling sea, waves crashing along the rocky shore. I had conquered my fear of heights and was rewarded with the most beautiful view. We stayed up there on that cedar tree for a long time. We watched the sun melt into the ocean, I could've stayed up there forever."

"There is a lone tree in part of my front yard and it's my favorite tree because out of all the many trees around my house, it grows it's leaves before any other and it was my grandmother's favorite tree too."

"Our front yard Maple tree holds many beautiful memories for me. I enjoyed when my adventurous kids climbed it and spent time in it during the summer when they were little. I also have a photo of our beloved family cat sitting in it. It was his favorite tree. We miss him, he’s been gone a few years now. The beautiful bright red leaves in the fall continue to bring me joy over the years as I look out our big windows. I curiously watch the chickadees as they flutter about in the tree foraging for insects and chattering to each other. I’m thankful for this tree. I’m thankful for the opportunity to see the change in seasons right out our window."

"Live oak in Cleveland Texas at my grandparents house; site of many a happy hour nestled between its welcoming roots playing with my brother and cousins Jimmy and PeeWee. Has survived long after the loss of many of us, watching over us with love and compassion."