"Life is a river of stories." Kim Stafford, The Muses Among Us
My husband, Jeff, has already been preparing for spring. His preparation actually began last fall when he went around trimming trees in need of a little pruning. Sine then he has been watching the trees for signs of life. As soon as the warmer air arrived he was wandering around our yard to be sure the deer, who find the trees perfect for scratching their antlers, hadn't caused too much damage to his small trees and weeping willow. The deer are not his only problem. Our cat, much to my husband's displeasure, likes to use the trees for a scratching post. Every kid who comes to visit knows not to pull the branches off a tree. We know not to grab a stick for the bonfire, hit a branch as we mow, or hang anything too heavy from their delicate branches.
Jeff is a little particular about his trees. You see, my husband is a tree whisperer. Every spring he spends forever going around the yard tending to the trees. Every summer he carefully watches the trees for signs of beetles and other insect invasion. He acts quickly to defend his trees. He has to be sure they are probably watered and fertilized. In our house one doesn't throw a banana peel away, it is taken to the tree and placed carefully near the trunk so the roots will eventually receive its nutrients.
There is constantly a tree that needs to be added to the Mere arboretum. In the spring he shops for the tree he must add to his collection. He is always on the lookout for something unusual to complement his growing collection. In the summer he looks for trees that might accent the flowerbeds. In the fall he begins his quest for fruit trees being clearance priced to add to his mini-orchard. If you are looking for a gift, a tree is the gift that keeps on giving. There is always room for more trees because my husband is a tree whisperer. I wouldn't have it any other way.