OAKWOOD, Ohio — Friday may be Arbor Day, but it’s always Christmas at my house.
My boyfriend, Adrian, and I own a house built in 1929 that has a magnificent spruce tree in the front yard. It’s almost three stories tall and a gorgeous specimen of a tree. It’s our landmark when we give directions: “Just look for the giant Christmas tree — you can’t miss it.” People always ask if we decorate it for the holidays. And since day one, I’ve joked about chopping it down.
You should have seen the horrified look on Adrian’s face when I first said it — I might as well have said that beer gives you cancer. “If you cut down that tree ...” he said, leaving the sentence and the future of our relationship dangling in the breeze.
I was never serious about cutting it down, of course. It’s a beautiful tree, and as my Dad once noted, it’s clearly very happy living in our yard.
No matter the season, it is always green and lush. I’m sure that whoever planted it there, oh, 40 or 50 years ago thought it was a cute little tree. They probably never figured that by 2016 it would become a cute humongous tree that covers half the yard, half the sidewalk and half the driveway. Maybe they thought we’d have flying cars by now, and the driveway wouldn’t matter anymore.
Still, for a yard ornament that doesn’t do anything but stand there, the tree has entertained us more than I ever expected.
We call it “the apartment complex” because so many critters call it home. In the winter, bright red cardinals perch on the high branches for a little respite from strutting their stuff, snuggling into the snowy boughs like a scene right off a postage stamp. In the spring, ever-watchful robins hop around its base on patrol. Like doormen, chubby squirrels traipse in and out, and a fluffy-tailed brown bunny regularly stops by for supper. Occasionally, a neighborhood cat wanders in and sniffs around — only to be evicted by squawking tenants.
Watching this tree, you can’t help but burst into a verse of Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah. (It happens more than we care to admit.)
It’s amazing that one tree has affected so many lives, whether winged, furry or human. It has sheltered our home from many bad storms and provided shade and privacy. It has been a home for countless generations of birds. It has weathered half a century of history as everything from Plymouths to Priuses pulled into the driveway next to it and as homeowners moved in and out. Decades ago, perhaps someone had a ladder tall enough to decorate it for Christmas. (We don’t.) It would look stunning, for sure.
It has brought us joy — by doing nothing but just standing there. What else in life can you say that about?
Still, as our spruce gets wider and our driveway smaller, I’m not sure what to do. Maybe in 10 years we’ll be forced to carve a tunnel through it, like one of those giant sequoia trees you see on postcards. For now, though, I have found solace in poetry:
I think that I shall never see / my driveway again because of a tree.
Friday is National Arbor Day — tree-planting day — during which we celebrate the importance of trees and the good they do for our planet.
So grab a shovel and plant that cute little sapling in your front yard. But take it from me: Plant it far away from your driveway. In 50 years, you can hop in your flying car and come thank me.
Olsen is a copy editor at USA TODAY.
