This is the story of my rescue tree.
Four Years Ago
When we first moved to our home in Fayetteville, we had the trees professionally trimmed. We also hired a crew to build a fence around the back yard. Both the tree and the fence folks wanted to take out a particular tree—a sapling really—that grew along the proposed fence line beneath the canopy of taller, more mature trees.
That little tree wasn’t hurting anyone. She was barely taking up any space. She was a youngster, a bit spindly and slightly misshapen, but I knew she was a volunteer sugar maple planted by a red robin or a spring wind or one of the many squirrels constantly digging for his supper.
I insisted.
So the tree stayed.Continue Reading
