The Trees of Home

On a recent vacation, I realized that trees make up part of what I consider "home".  No matter how many states or countries we live in, most of us describe our locale by the weather, the topography, the view.

For many years I've lived in in the Southeastern U.S., especially in what is known as the Deep South.  Even during the mild winter months, the landscape is green thanks to the prolific pine tress that grow so easily here.  The area I'm in is known especially for its live oak trees, many of them well over a hundred years old.  These grand dames with their gnarled, curved limbs often sweeping almost to the ground have withstood the salty coastal winds and raging hurricanes.

Following Hurricane Katrina, the oaks still stood - but every leaf had been blown off.  Blasted by winds up to 140 mph and then saturated by a surge of seawater 28 feet deep in some areas, the oaks appeared dead.  Yet within a few weeks, new leaves sprouted and the trees went on as usual.  In my own yard, 9 huge pine trees came down in the storm, taking out my garden, my fence and part of my house, too.  Yet the clump of three old live oaks that grow just 15 feet from the back wall of my home are still there shading the roof and windows.

One of my favorite Southern trees has always been the flowering crepe myrtle.  Covered with flowers of white, pale pink or hot pink, this plant is fast growing, can be pruned severely to control growth, and is a reliable bloomer every summer.  Pecan trees are everywhere here, too, and humans and squirrels gather the pecans each season.

Home landscaping often includes the graceful river birch trees.  Another fast grower, the river birch has multiple trunks and develops a birch bark as do others of this species.  The tree is a popular small shade tree on the coast.

I'm accustomed to the trees in the Southern US.  However, on a recent trip to visit family 600 miles North, I was struck by the joy I felt seeing the trees I grew up with in the Ohio Valley area of the Midwest.   The huge rounded maples, the poplars and elms are the shade trees I sat under as a child.  The first leaves in the spring were excited after the months of cold winter brown landscape.  In the summer, the trees were never still, with light breezes stirring the leaves constantly.  The lilac trees - oh, the scent of a lilac - were drooping with the weight of their blooms.

Since returning to the Southern US, I find myself remembering different seasons of the trees of my childhood home.  Raking leaves and jumping in them, the smell of fallen leaves, the renewal in the Spring.   I would not be comfortable living in desert or plains areas where trees are scarce and far apart, yet  I didn't realize until my return there how much I've missed the trees of home.