By Pat Gracey
My Pet Tree
The Spirit of Tehachapi
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A few years ago I ordered a strip of some sort of material with ready inserted flower seeds so all I had to do is lay it on the ground and water it. The fewer times I handle any growing plant is to the plant's advantage. My "kiss of death" touch is not conducive to lush plant growth. Those little flowers started sprouting and I was carefully watering them. Each little dainty flower was identifiable except for a strange green sprouting "thing" that soon gained height but no blossom. It was kind of homely and already had gained several inches over the prim and proper flowers. It didn't look like a weed so I decided to take my little ugly duckling out and put it in a pot to see what it turned out to be.
My, how happy my little friendly plant became. Growing up on its own and not being compared to the floral perfection to which it had been subjected. It flourished; even with my toxic touch. After a few months it outgrew the little pot and I got it a bigger pot! How happy it was to have leg (root) room so it soon was a couple of feet tall! It seemed to like me! So, the next Christmas one of my sons bought me a LARGER pot to put my plant friend in. By this time, it showed signs that it was definitely a tree. But, what kind of tree? Its leaves were somewhat unusual in appearance.
Later on that year I went to the garden shop and asked for directions for transplanting, into my yard, the tree that had no name. He sold me a wire base to keep the gophers from eating my little ugly duckling alive. The gardener said I should cut off a branch and bring it to him and he would identify it. Cut off one of its arms? I could never do that! It trusted me and was growing for me! Finally, another of my sons, ( I have five sons.) offered to transplant "tree" into my back yard. My back yard and my tree fit right in. The backyard is "native" and only has a lilac bush and a red bud tree; no lawn. "Tree" fitted right in and all I had to do was be sure it had a drink now and then along with the lilac and red bud. There is a pine tree in the far reaches of my yard that my granddaughter planted when she was eleven and in the sixth grade in Mr. Wright's class at Wells. It was three inches tall when Mr. Wright sent each child home with a pine tree in a little half pint milk carton. It's has grown into a huge tree too but its roots must be in a leech line for it grows fine without my watering it. It's a lovely tall pine.
"Tree," however, is as tall as my roof now and still looks somewhat ungainly for I cannot bear to have its arms cut off and be trimmed. I have, while biting my tongue and hoping it is not feeling pain, clipped one of its leaves to show anyone who can identify it. Never having felt the shears it resembles a giant bush. Still somewhat homely, my ugly duckling will never turn into a swan but it's MY ugly duckling and I love it!
Sure wish I knew what my pet tree's name really is.
