Been There, Done That
What Makes a Great Weekend?

Family Tree

When Peter and I bought our empty-nester house in Cambridge, we hired a graduate student in landscape architecture to help us plan our backyard.

He recommended a blue spruce to anchor a corner of our small lot.  The tree he brought from the nursery was about three feet tall and a foot-and-a-half across.  I remember asking him why he didn’t plant it closer to the fence.  He explained that it needed room to grow.

Last weekend, Peter and I were having a glass of wine on our patio. We were celebrating seventeen years in our “new” house.  “Where did the time go?” we asked.

I pointed out how much our spruce tree had grown.  I walked across the yard to stand next to it. The tree that had come up to my waist when it was planted is now a good thirty feet high and twelve feet across. 

What else has changed while we weren’t looking?


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