My friends, the trees

Last night TRQ asked what I'm reading.

THE OVERSTORY by Richard Powers, I said.

What's it about?  she asked.

It's about trees.  And people.  And trees.

Pause.

Well okay then, she said.

The thing is that OVERSTORY is a special book.  Really amazing.  But I don't know how to talk about it in a way that would make TRQ (or anyone else) want to read it.  The book has, however, made me remember three tiny tree stories from my youth.  All of these happened when we still lived in Holladay when the Coach worked at Granite High School.

First Tiny Story:  My parents bring my brother home from the hospital.  I am two and I am NOT PLEASED.  I run away and by that I mean I go stand under the crabapple tree in the front yard, hoping people will notice I'm gone and come find me.  No one does.  SAD!

Second Tiny Story:  Someone arranges to have a large tree cut down in our front yard.  I stand at the window, watching this and crying because I have come to think of this tree as a person.

Third Tiny Story:  My grandmother and I are standing near the bank of lilacs that line our driveway.  She tells me trees can talk.  And I believe her.

Yes.  I was a fanciful child.  But sometimes I drive out to Holladay, looking for that old crabapple tree even though our house and our garden and our chicken coop and our orchard are long, long gone.

So yeah.  It's no wonder that I'd like a book about trees and people and trees.