I have planted many trees.  Not for any of these unselfish reasons, but selfishly, just because I love them so much.

Everyone of these trees has a story behind it, but no one cares.  Maybe I will tell those stories some day.

For now, I am just posting pictures of some beloved trees I have left where I planted them as I moved on.

And this last little one, I brought with me.  It is the baby of the first giant redwood that Elizabeth helped plant at 1880 in 1999. It will be my Christmas tree.

I think I know why I love trees so much.  Mother did, even though we lived in a place where trees were mostly just scrubby bushes.  Then we moved to a desert where she and Daddy still planted trees.

When I moved to the West Coast, I fell in love with sequoia sempervirens, Coast Redwoods. They loved the foggy northern California clime.

I once left  behind a beloved grove there.

Here in Oregon, I planted another grove.  They really shouldn’t thrive this far inland, but mine did.  And do.

And once again, I leave them behind.

But they are still there.

Like the pyramids. I saw them.  I may never see them again. But they are still there.