We have two Colorado Blue Spruce trees in our front yard.
One, a taller, sparer tree lives slightly West of the best water. She’s the Mama tree, producing Spruce-cones, protecting the Papa tree from the harsh West wind, and giving of herself – to the point that she almost died of thirst one summer while her mate prospered.
The shorter, plumper, fuller Papa tree to her east provides a home for birds of many species. His many branches hide them so well that we can’t find the nest if a chick falls in the spring or summer. He is very prosperous, our Papa tree, and grows out, not up, so Mama can catch the early morning sun on her cone-laden upper branches.
Respecting their natures, we put the bird-seed in the Mama tree and stay away from the Papa tree, so as not to disturb the many families.
When we did a bit of decorative landscaping last spring, laying down fabric and bark in a newly-created aluminum circle, Papa was careful not to scratch my back with his low branches. He kept his sharp needles away. Mama, on the other hand, was much more interested in protecting her babies and wasn’t so worried about my back – or the weeds and grass we removed from around her trunk. Her needles were sharp, although not hurtful. I do think she was grateful that we’d noticed how thirsty she was and remedied the situation. Grateful, but wary.
So far from their mountain home, and such good neighbors. It would be heartless not to be thankful for the pleasure of their company.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
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