I'm heading back to Oshawa today and find myself - well, actually my flight - delayed for a few hours. So, a quick post about one of my favorite tree stories.
It was relayed to me by Georgia Miller, a proud Newburgh, Indiana resident and a fan of the Cypress tree, specifically one affectionately known as Cypress Bob.
Here's Bob's story, in Georgia's own words:
In 2008, Mr. and Mrs. Faass bought a cypress tree to plant in their backyard.
But after they brought the tree home, they decided they didn't have enough room for it - it's a large tree after all. So, Mrs. Faass gave it to her mother, Pat.
Pat didn't have room for the tree either, so she asked me if I wanted the tree.
I planted it on May 1, 2008, exactly 12 years to the day after I buried my husband, Robert L. Miller, who went by the nickname Bob. So I named it Cypress Bob.
I planted it close to my back deck so I could always see it grow. It's probably 7 feet tall now, still very small compared to the cypress trees I've seen. Right behind the tree I have a Bradford pear and Sunset maple - their leaves are much darker than my cypress' leaves. My cypress has a lacy looking leaf - it's so very pretty and delicate compared to the other trees.
I can go out on my deck and sit down and relax right next to my cypress. It's a reminder of my late husband who was a civic-minded and dedicated man.
I've heard some of these cypress trees can grow to be 150 feet tall. I'll soon be 81 years old, so I'm not sure I'll be around to see it get that tall. But I'll keep taking care of it everyday and giving it drinks of water when it gets dry here, and of course enjoy watching it grow. It's my Cypress Bob.
Thanks Georgia for again demonstrating the powerful emotional connection between people and their trees!