I am a lover of nature. I love birds, I love flowers, I love sunsets, I love lakes and streams, I love trees, I love maple trees. But to the maple tree in our neighbors yard that sheds all of its 100 million trillion maple keys over our deck and into our pool every single year… I do not love you.
Even though you are a magnificent specimen of a tree, your prolific scattering of your helicopter-like spawn is truly excessive. It makes me wonder if you are trying to reforest this tree-cutting-loving town on your own. Or perhaps you are so consumed with your own mortality that every spring in desperation you do everything you can to leave a Maple-tree legacy for future generations.
But even for that, a mere 100 would do. I could clean up 98 maple keys leaving 2 to grow, I could kept my deck swept and my pool skimmed. I am begging you to reconsider this flagrant reproduction.
So to the maple tree next door in my neighbour’s yard, I repeat – I cannot love you right now. Maybe when you are sheltering me from the hot relentless sun in July, I will reconsider, but that seems a long way away.
the girl next door