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.