A Tree Outside My Window

Outside our living room.

Last spring, in full leaf.

I love that there are trees outside our windows. It’s one of the great things about living in Oregon. Whatever room I’m in, as long as it has a window I can see a tree.

I grew up surrounded by trees. We were in a pretty big suburb of a very large city, but the neighborhood we lived in had lots of trees. Green in spring and summer, blazing orange and red in the fall, and bare-branched in the winter, but always beautiful.

Then we moved to Southern California. It was bare and brown, and the suburb we lived in only had a few trees. And the ones that were there kept getting cut down.

Every six months or so another tree was gone. I felt like the Lorax.

But then I moved to Oregon, and I got to be around trees again. And Anna gets to grow up surrounded by them like I did. She’s even planted one.

With the mix of evergreens and deciduous trees, fall isn’t quite as spectacular, but winter is still a bit green—kind of like Christmas.

And I get a tree outside my window. I like that.

Five Minute Friday


2 thoughts on “A Tree Outside My Window

  1. Dear David
    I hear your heart, my friend. You remind me of my neighbor who works in Saudi Arabia as a phsychiatric lecturer. A few weeks ago she was on holidays and brought me the most delicious dates as a gift. She couldn’t stop talking about the beautiful trees and greenery of South Africa for all they see on a daily basis is desert, desert and another stretch of desert.
    Blessings XX


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