Good evening all!
When you are in a long relationship with someone, you find yourself returning to certain things over and over. It might be an inside joke. It might be a movie line that you quote to each other. Maybe it's a song lyric. It's some little, generally verbal, thing that is one of the million tiny bricks in the wall that is your relationship.
Hubby and I do all of those things, often to the embarrassment of our children. But the thing we come back to, like a sportscaster bringing up whether or not Pete Rose should be allowed into the Baseball Hall of Fame (see...I speak MAN), is this question:
Do trees communicate with each other?
I know, I know. It seems like a completely stupid question because of COURSE trees communicate with each other.
You don't agree with me?
ARE YOU COMPLETELY WITHOUT A SOUL?
Okay, let me back up. When we were dating, you know, before movie rentals and the Internet and cable TV took up our time, Hubby and I went for long walks. In the interest of not revealing too much because the children might be listening, I will say that we walked...and walked...and WALKED for miles. Walking and talking and that's ALL WE DID ON THOSE WALKS EVER.
And when all you do on a date is walk and talk, sometimes, even the most pretentious college students can run out of things to debate. And Hubby and I were hardly what you'd call pretentious. So we'd resort to just saying words until something sounded like a topic of discussion. Such was the case of the trees.
We were in my hometown of Manitowoc, WI...and for those of you who have read or are about to read Dream in Color, yes, Cobia is patterned after Manitowoc...(and for those of you who haven't read the book...what is WRONG with you? Romantic comedies make AWESOME mother's Day gifts!)...and we were walking along New York Avenue, where my parents had their house. (Take a self guided tour of Sarah J. Bradley's old home town!)
Since it was late and I was really tired of walking and talking I looked up at the trees, because that's what people in love do sometimes when you are in a town where pretty much everyone knows either you or your dad, so getting caught making out in your boyfriend's car while parked in the cemetery is just not an option. (Oh...wait...I mean, when you've been WALKING AND TALKING FOR HOURS because your parents won't go to bed so you can make out in the living room...oh this is not getting better, is it?) And looking at the trees, I spouted out these words:
Do you think that trees, like really old trees, maybe trees that have grown up in front of a house and been there when the kids grow up and move away and the grand kids come and stuff...do you think those trees sort of communicate with each other?
Oh I can hear you all scratching your heads right now. Believe me, Hubby, in the foolishness of his youth, howled out loud with laughter. Well, he did until he realized I was being serious. Which I didn't realize I was being until he laughed at me.
And thus a debate was born.
He's the sensible, grounded one who says no, of course trees don't communicate. "Trees are plants. They don't talk."
I'm the flighty one who says, "Who said anything about talking? I mean communicate, like a whisper among themselves."
Believe it or not, this debate has withstood the test of time. In twenty plus years of marriage, we've come to agreement on the topics of religion, parenting, politics, and whose relatives to invite to Christmas Eve dinner. (Answer...invite everyone and let them decide if they're coming.)
But the tree thing...that rages on.
I had a major victory a number of years ago when "Lord of the Rings" introduced those of us who hadn't gotten past "The Hobbit" to the magical creatures called "Ents." These Ents, as you might have guessed were TREES! Tolkien agrees with ME! Score one for ME!
Well, until Hubby points out that Tolkien wrote FICTION...
Whatever dude. The trees communicate with each other. Don't believe me? Then tell me it's not a conspiracy that every single tree in our yard doesn't drop leaf ONE until AFTER the final city leaf pick up in the fall. That's the trees getting even with Hubby for not BE wait for it LEAVING.
And now, my friends, I bid you farewell, and good night. I'm off to watch Mr. Rick Springfield in Hawaii 5-0. YEEE and HAAAA!
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