One Blooming Tree

Ever since I was small, I've noticed trees -- their stature, their shapes, the way their branches and leaves move in the breeze. Anyone who appreciates patterns has to appreciate trees, with their growth rings, their root structure, their distribution of branches, their symmetrical leaves.

They are homes for many other creatures, notably birds. Finding a nest, long after it's been abandoned, has always been a joy for me, if only to appreciate the structural integrity of its design. What a marvel that a creature relying only on its beak and claws can construct such an elaborate home for its babies.

Other animal habitats also intrigued me as a child; growing up in the country I found the places where foxes and rabbits lived, where deer lay in the bushes, and how field mice burrowed through corn fields.

I found heron nests in the cat tails, and saw these magnificent birds fight off snakes that otherwise would have eaten their young.

Then there were the circles the fish dug with their tails in the sand in the shallows, where they deposited their eggs, then circling above nervously, scaring off any creature that dared to come near.

The turtles, for the most part, knew better, but the real danger were other fish -- bigger fish.

Thus the shallows for these circles, since the parent fish, mainly panfish, didn't need more than a few inches of water to cover their home, whereas the bigger, more dangerous fish (bass, pike) rarely ventured this close to shore.

I watched it all as a boy, this and much more.

But it all comes back to me as a series of images, partial memories, snippets of stories, when I glimpse something as common as a tree in bloom.

That's what happened in this case, at least.

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