It must be the mother instinct in me. I feel great satisfaction saving something and giving it another chance, especially if it just needs a little TLC. For example, the antique upright grand piano in my living room is one that I stripped and refinished 25 years ago. I don’t play it much but I love it with all my heart. This need in me is also why I adopted some baby trees.
Two of them came from a friend who was looking for homes for seedlings of native Michigan trees. One was labeled “Hazelnut”, the other “Basswood” (also known as a “Linden”.) Neither looked very vigorous after surviving the harsh winter, but here in September I think we may have some real trees after all.
I also came across a couple little volunteer oak trees in the field. In my imagination, one day they will provide wonderful shade and acorns for the sheep that will be grazing underneath. Sprouting around the oaks were a number of skinny little Poplar trees, and I dug one up and moved it to the back yard. It hasn’t flourished as well as its brothers in the field, but I have high hopes. (Technically, it may be a Cottonwood, but I don’t know the difference.)
I lived in New Jersey for a year and that house had a gigantic, beautiful Beech tree in the back yard. I loved that tree. I would like to have one here some day. We already planted a horse chestnut tree in the yard and I’m can hardly wait to see it leaf out and blossom next spring. I think I am patient enough to wait for all my trees to mature, but it’s okay if they outlive me and become mighty for the next generation.