A lesson from my red maple tree

Where others see inconvenience, I see truth

You stand tall and rooted in the very center of my tiny backyard.

Your leaves cast shadows that make the lawn patchy.

My husband and my landscaper suggested the same thing: cut you down.

But I don’t care about lush grass.

For 52 seasons, I’ve admired you.

The shade you’ve offered on the hottest summer days.

The fiery splendor of your leaves in the fall.

The frosty glimmer of winter on your branches.

The tightly furled buds that herald spring and invite the birds back.

You are more than a tree.

You are a reminder of the beauty of taking up space in this world,

Not to shrink because someone may not want you where you are.

I hope whoever lives here next sees this too.