My New Favorite Tree

Years ago, when I was a student, during the most stressful (although happy) time in my life, I lived next door to a little house that had a beautiful tree in the front yard. Most of the year it just looked like any old tree, but in the spring, it burst into crazy fluffy pink blossoms.

Several years after I moved away, my husband was in the area again, and actually took a cutting of the tree (no, he did not ask the occupants of the house, but when I lived there it was a crowd of rugby players from new zealand, so we thought it probably wouldn't have been worth it.) But I couldn't get the cutting to root, so I gave up.

Last year I moved to my new house, and lo and behold, I have a new favorite tree! I don't know if it's the same type as my old favorite, but I love it. I think it's a cherry.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that maybe I can't call this my favorite tree; first of all, one of my children is calling it their own; but I myself also have a penchant for big old maples (with really fat trunks) standing in lawns near the road; they remind me of my grandparents' house; scrub pines, possibly the ugliest of all trees, remind me of childhood summers down the Cape; and then there's the Catalpa tree. I love those; the beans are so gross. Weeping willows: remind me of Boston in spring. So I am a tree hugger. Hmm. But this is my prettiest tree.

PS: I don't love all trees; I'm turned off to cedars ever since I had a cedar with a cedar apple rust: a giant orange fungus ball hanging from its branches. Yucko. Actually, kind of cool, once you figured out it wasn't aliens. (You can see one like it here.)

PPS: Wow, two blog days in a row!

PPPS: What's your favorite tree?