These trees were not fruitless mulberry or elm trees, nor even pomegranate like the other wonderous specimen in our Odessa yard. Nope. These two were different. They were sweet gum trees. In the warm summer daylight, they stood tall and leafy, dappling our grassy yards with shade. At night, In the moonlight, their pale gray trunks glowed like stately ghosts.
But it was in the fall, when their leaves melted from emerald-green to glorious gold that I truly fell in love with my sweet gum trees. I think of them, still.
Over the years, they have become touchstones, bookends for the richest eras of my life. They drench my sepia-toned memories with warm, soothing yellow.
I feel blessed to have shared my life with these two friends, I sometimes wish I could go back to the days of those trees, relive all the things I’ve already forgotten. Maybe if I plant one, now, it will see me out. It’s something to think about, but like I said, I’m different. I like to think about things, like trees.
