We have these massive Cottonwood trees growing up, up, up, out of our canyon. Their roots are way down in the creek bottom, and they come soaring up, reaching well above the Alder, and even most of the evergreens.
They are perhaps one of my single most favorite trees. Not for their beauty, as they are quite common in appearance, and certainly not for their usefulness, since they have short lives in comparison to other tree varieties, and their wood is way too ashy to create a good house-warming fire in the woodstove.
And yet, I love them.
I watch them all year long from my kitchen window, frosted with snow or ice in the Winter, standing stark and tall, shivering and quaking in the Summer, as their silvery leaves catch the motion of the air, and swaying to and fro, branches and leaves streaming in the wind when the Autumn storms come.
It may be their massive size, or it may be the memories I have collected through my life of climbing on, daydreaming under, and watching their rhythm in the wind. All I know is that I am happy to see them right now, baby leaves in brilliant chartreuse green stand out against the pink of the Alder and deep green of the evergreens...
their growth cycle is starting once again.