More About Trees

I realize this may seem like I am forgetting my other dalliances with the animate forms of nature, but I didn't finish my thoughts about trees.

I had other favorite trees of my youth, though none other shared the name "Favorite Tree".  My Aunt Erma in Payson had a very tall tree...I believe it was a poplar...that grew in her front yard. It went almost straight up, so it was not great for multi-party climbs, but I believe it is the tallest tree I ever scaled.  Its branches were perfectly proportioned for climbing...just the right thickness so you always felt secure putting your full weight on them, and just about the right distance apart for legs from 5-10 years old.  One of the first things I would do when we got to the Jaspersons, sometimes even before I said "hi", I would head for that tree.  I used to think it was the closest I would ever get to climbing Jack's beanstalk, as it seemed to almost reach the clouds.  As I neared the top of the tree and took in the 360-degree panoramic view of the entire world (or at least all of Payson, Utah), I could forgive the Babylonians for wanting to build a tower that reached the heavens.

It was not the only Payson tree that was good for a climb.  Across the road from Aunt Erma's & Uncle Roy's (known to us as Dogie) was the home in which my Mom grew up.  

Grandma, Erma, Vera, & Mom on the side of the old homestead.

By then it was occupied by my other Aunt & Uncle with cousins my age, Vera and Claude Newton.  In front was an ancient and huge mulberry tree that in season produced buckets of sweet mulberries It was there I first learned how evil the word "stain" was to our mothers.  But in season or out it was a fantastic tree in which to climb.  It was not nearly as tall as Aunt Erma's poplar, and you had to have someone boost you up to the first branch, but its branches were wide and strong enough to hold all the cousins.  We had some great times in that tree.

Last but far from least of the Payson trees was an old cherry tree in the northeast corner of the Jasperson property.  When I was about 8, Uncle Dogie built a tree house for his son Randy (2 years my senior) that seemed like a castle in the sky.

When we heard the term "tree house", all we ever thought of was a few boards nailed as flat as you could get them across a couple of branches.  This was beyond our imaginations.  It was literally a one-room cabin in the tree...with walls, a roof, glass windows, stairs leading up, an electric light with a switch...I don't think it had hot and cold running water, but I could be wrong.  Uncle Dogie had some carpentry skills, and he had built his son a dream house.  We felt it a rare privilege to be invited up into its rarefied atmosphere.

There were, of course, other purposes to trees than scaling them.  We also became adept at availing ourselves of the bounties of the fruit trees.  The orchard in which our "Favorite Tree" resided was in decline by the time our family moved in, and by the time I was in high school, it had been sold for further development.  But in those halcyon years the cherry trees still produced enough that we would come home sticky with cherry juice, often accompanied by a case of the stomach gripes, and followed by some serious bathroom time.

I also remember a morning after a pretty stiff overnight windstorm when we were walking along the east bank of the canal (we were probably 10-11 by then, not as much at risk as when we were smaller), behind some homes along 400 East, and we found an apricot tree with an entire branch full of apricots blown off.  We assured ourselves that the owner would never want these downed apricots, so we threw the entire branch in the canal, then shepherded it downstream until it was near our houses, pulled it out and had a wonderful bounty (I wish to point out here that this was after I was baptized, but before I held the priesthood).

Trees continued to play a meaningful role throughout my life.  They still do.  I am grateful to Providence for creating them.