Spring brings new life and some dead trees

Spring has sprung ... or so they say. Around here, we aren’t worrying about a few weeds. After the ten days of zero-ish weather, we are just glad to see a little green. I joined many townspeople this afternoon when I ventured out to break a few limbs, scratch a few stems, and say a few prayers over the bushes and trees in my yard.

After the “winter-demic-thaw,” most of us didn’t realize the damage that had been done outside. We were more worried about the burst pipes and water leaks. There wasn’t much thought to why the trees and shrubs looked so “brown.” It was February … or was it March? Whichever, it was winter … in our minds. We had just spent that ten days trying to stay warm and live on limited water. The only limbs we wanted were those logs that filled the fireplaces.

But, alas, March 20 came and went and with it the season changed. The birds returned, the weed grasses bloomed, and the dead trees began to stick out. I have two big Indian Hawthorns in my back yard. For the last twenty years, those two bushes have put out lovely pink flowers for a week or so and then filled that corner of the yard with lush green leaves the rest of the year. I’ve loved them.

Yesterday, I ventured into the backyard to check on those bushes. They are covered in lovely orange-brown leaves whereas in a good year, they would have wintered over in green hues. The leaves are still attached. The limbs haven’t broken. But, the pink flowers will probably not show up this year … or ever. When I broke some of the limbs, the insides looked a little like a thirteen-year-old Kit Kat bar. Brittle and dry, they frowned up at me … chastising me for letting them get this way.

I did plant a crabapple tree in the front yard last fall. I babied it and managed to get the skinny trunk up about two feet. It is alive and covered in fresh green leaves. The Arbor Day Foundation sent it to me. So, for a mere one-hundred-dollar donation, I got a crabapple that lived through the winter-demic and a crepe myrtle which may have bit the dust. The crepe myrtle is great with hot, dry weather, but I’m afraid not so much ten degrees and snow.

The oak tree which I planted in the front yard a couple of years ago is fairing rather well. The winter of 2020 was rather mild. However, some squirrel or cat or hungry sparrow must have eaten the trunk of that little tree. By spring it was a four-inch leafless stick. Over the summer, it managed to put out a few limbs and by fall it had regained its height. I noticed this afternoon that the oak has buds on the tips of its limbs. Life goes on, and I’m hoping for some real success there. If I see a squirrel or rabbit with green lips, they’d better watch out.

I’m putting off all decisions about trimming and pulling up dead things. Surely if they are dead, they can wait. Like my house and my body, most of my trees and plants are old. Their roots are deep. Like most Texas residents, they are resilient. As our world turns green and new life awakens, we’ll celebrate … and buy some more Indian Hawthorns.