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The Magic Tree
Mothers Day was very busy for us. In the morning we went out for breakfast with Teri's mother. In the afternoon we went and had lunch at Teri's brother's place (with her mother). And then we hopped in the car to go to the Arnold Arboretum in Boston, to have a picnic dinner with my mother and the rest of my family.
Do you know the Arboretum? If you're not living in the Boston area, perhaps you don't. But I know it well. When I was little my parents used to take me there, and my mother was going there with her family even when she was a little girl. I lived next to the Arboretum for several years after I graduated from college, too.
When I was young I'd found a place at the Arboretum, a place I still call the Magic Tree. I never knew what kind of tree it is, but everyone who sees it compares it to an umbrella; a thick, opaque canopy of ivy-like leaves that go all the way to the ground, making a solid wall all around. But if you push your way inside, you're in a huge open space: a magic place enclosed in green, with the sunlight tinged by the leaves and the tree trunk a huge grey double column soaring upwards to the roof of leaves.
Once you're inside, nobody outside can see you.
The thing is, I wasn't sure I could find it again. It's not on any of the paths, and at least one time when I went back there I hadn't been able to find it. Plus, it was getting late; we were going to arrive at the Arboretum at 5:30 or so, leaving a bare two hours to have dinner with my family, stroll among the lilacs (Sunday was Lilac Day at the Arboretum, and if you haven't seen that you really should), and find the magic tree.
So as soon as I told Sebastian about the tree I started worrying. He was obviously captivated by the story, and asked question after question. I started backpedaling, telling him that if we couldn't see it today we'd come back another time...and he started crying. Not good!
Teri had wanted to buy food at a Subway near her brother's house, but I managed to convince her that it would be better to get food near the Arboretum; it was a 90-minute drive, after all. She was dubious that I'd even be able to find the Arboretum, much less a place to grab some subs beforehand.
We made good time. It felt odd to see my old street (Symmes, if you were wondering), and I felt right at home. Tex's BBQ was still there but not open, so I directed Teri to a new sub and pizza place just past it. She and Sebastian waited in the car while I ran in.
The Red Sox were on. Everybody was watching. It was the bottom of the ninth inning, the score was 4-5 in favor of Baltimore, and the bases were loaded. The count went 3-2...and then Lugo got a base hit and Ray made an error. Two runs in, and the Red Sox won 6-5! Everybody cheered, including me.
I'm not a sports fan, but Boston is in my blood.
That done, I paid for the sandwiches, chips, and drinks, and we drove to the Arboretum. Cars were parked up and down the street, but luck was with us: there was a space perfectly located right in front of the entrance. We went in to look for my parents, my cousin, and my brother's family.
Teri wanted me to call them. She suspected that they might have come in by another entrance. I told her I knew where they were, if they'd arrived yet. As it turned out, they hadn't, but they all arrived within ten minutes.
Dad said he'd seen a sign that said that picnics aren't allowed in the Arboretum, so we started to set up in a little clearing out of sight of the path. But Jen checked and found that picnics are allowed on one day only: Mothers Day. So again we were in luck.
We had our picnic, and it was lovely. The food from the sub place was quite good (I'd go there again), and everything was perfect. It was just slightly cool, but the sun was slanting down on us and we were comfortable.
I was worried about the magic tree and the lilacs; it was getting awfully late, and the Arboretum closes at sundown. We wouldn't get locked in or anything, because some of the gates are simply gone. Still, we couldn't walk around the Arboretum much in the dark. There are no lights there.
So we started hiking towards the lilacs. I was sure that the magic tree was along the way there; I had a pretty good idea of where I'd last seen it.
Sebastian was in heaven. He played with his cousins, ran around, looked at the little brook that runs alongside the path, and spent some time clambering around a little, absolutely beautiful waterfall. I was only able to drag him from the waterfall by reminding him about the magic tree.
We left the paved path and started up the steep trail, a shortcut to the lilacs. Sebastian was holding my hand. And suddenly I spied it: a solid curtain of green about fifty feet from the path, glowing in the sun.
"Sebastian, there it is!" I shouted, and together we ran off the path towards it. The grass was long, lush and soft, and we flew over it. At the great green wall (was it the right place?) I looked around and found a spot where the leaves didn't quite touch the ground.
I led us in, and there we were.
No one else was there. It was as magical as I remembered; Sebastian felt it too. We were inside the tree. Birds sang high up in the top of the canopy, their song far more clear here than from outside. After a while Sebastian pointed at the names carved high up on the huge trunk and asked how people had put them up there.
"They carved them a long time ago, baby boy, and the tree...grew up."
Teri came in, and my father, and a few other family members. Sebastian was sad that my mother, baffled by the dense leaf canopy, had gone ahead to see the lilacs, and that his cousins had run off even earlier; they never saw the tree. But I told him we'd try to come back with them all some day, and that he and I would come back again in any case.
I took some video with my phone, but it didn't come out very well - and my phone doesn't save video in a format that works with YouTube, I believe.
After a while we went out and walked on to the lilacs. The smells! There are dozens of different types of lilacs, ranging in color from bright white to all shades of dark red, purple, and blue; the smells also varied. We went from flower to flower, smelling each one. Sebastian did too, and he loved them.
"They're delightful! Exquisite!" he proclaimed over and over again, in ridiculously cultured tones. For his favorites he literally swooned with delight, throwing himself down on the ground. He was having the time of his life.
It was almost too much; everyone walking by was friendly and happy, and the blossoms and scents were incredible. But eventually we reached the end of the lilacs.
Slowly we headed back in a great circle to the cars. It was almost eight o'clock; the sun was quite low in the sky, though there was still plenty of light. Sebastian started complaining about his feet and legs, trying to get us to carry him. My brother carried him on his back for a while.
We got to the entrance, hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and drove home. Teri and I were sure that Sebastian would fall asleep in the car, but to our amazement he stayed awake through the whole trip. When we got home he ate the second half of his sub, and then went upstairs; I read him Jenny and the Cat Club, and then sang to him until he fell asleep.
After that I had to run out to pick up a couple of prescriptions from CVS for me and Teri. I ended up getting to bed a little after midnight. The next day I was dead tired, and my feet still hurt from all the walking; but it was worth it.
Do you know the Arboretum? If you're not living in the Boston area, perhaps you don't. But I know it well. When I was little my parents used to take me there, and my mother was going there with her family even when she was a little girl. I lived next to the Arboretum for several years after I graduated from college, too.
When I was young I'd found a place at the Arboretum, a place I still call the Magic Tree. I never knew what kind of tree it is, but everyone who sees it compares it to an umbrella; a thick, opaque canopy of ivy-like leaves that go all the way to the ground, making a solid wall all around. But if you push your way inside, you're in a huge open space: a magic place enclosed in green, with the sunlight tinged by the leaves and the tree trunk a huge grey double column soaring upwards to the roof of leaves.
Once you're inside, nobody outside can see you.
The thing is, I wasn't sure I could find it again. It's not on any of the paths, and at least one time when I went back there I hadn't been able to find it. Plus, it was getting late; we were going to arrive at the Arboretum at 5:30 or so, leaving a bare two hours to have dinner with my family, stroll among the lilacs (Sunday was Lilac Day at the Arboretum, and if you haven't seen that you really should), and find the magic tree.
So as soon as I told Sebastian about the tree I started worrying. He was obviously captivated by the story, and asked question after question. I started backpedaling, telling him that if we couldn't see it today we'd come back another time...and he started crying. Not good!
Teri had wanted to buy food at a Subway near her brother's house, but I managed to convince her that it would be better to get food near the Arboretum; it was a 90-minute drive, after all. She was dubious that I'd even be able to find the Arboretum, much less a place to grab some subs beforehand.
We made good time. It felt odd to see my old street (Symmes, if you were wondering), and I felt right at home. Tex's BBQ was still there but not open, so I directed Teri to a new sub and pizza place just past it. She and Sebastian waited in the car while I ran in.
The Red Sox were on. Everybody was watching. It was the bottom of the ninth inning, the score was 4-5 in favor of Baltimore, and the bases were loaded. The count went 3-2...and then Lugo got a base hit and Ray made an error. Two runs in, and the Red Sox won 6-5! Everybody cheered, including me.
I'm not a sports fan, but Boston is in my blood.
That done, I paid for the sandwiches, chips, and drinks, and we drove to the Arboretum. Cars were parked up and down the street, but luck was with us: there was a space perfectly located right in front of the entrance. We went in to look for my parents, my cousin, and my brother's family.
Teri wanted me to call them. She suspected that they might have come in by another entrance. I told her I knew where they were, if they'd arrived yet. As it turned out, they hadn't, but they all arrived within ten minutes.
Dad said he'd seen a sign that said that picnics aren't allowed in the Arboretum, so we started to set up in a little clearing out of sight of the path. But Jen checked and found that picnics are allowed on one day only: Mothers Day. So again we were in luck.
We had our picnic, and it was lovely. The food from the sub place was quite good (I'd go there again), and everything was perfect. It was just slightly cool, but the sun was slanting down on us and we were comfortable.
I was worried about the magic tree and the lilacs; it was getting awfully late, and the Arboretum closes at sundown. We wouldn't get locked in or anything, because some of the gates are simply gone. Still, we couldn't walk around the Arboretum much in the dark. There are no lights there.
So we started hiking towards the lilacs. I was sure that the magic tree was along the way there; I had a pretty good idea of where I'd last seen it.
Sebastian was in heaven. He played with his cousins, ran around, looked at the little brook that runs alongside the path, and spent some time clambering around a little, absolutely beautiful waterfall. I was only able to drag him from the waterfall by reminding him about the magic tree.
We left the paved path and started up the steep trail, a shortcut to the lilacs. Sebastian was holding my hand. And suddenly I spied it: a solid curtain of green about fifty feet from the path, glowing in the sun.
"Sebastian, there it is!" I shouted, and together we ran off the path towards it. The grass was long, lush and soft, and we flew over it. At the great green wall (was it the right place?) I looked around and found a spot where the leaves didn't quite touch the ground.
I led us in, and there we were.
No one else was there. It was as magical as I remembered; Sebastian felt it too. We were inside the tree. Birds sang high up in the top of the canopy, their song far more clear here than from outside. After a while Sebastian pointed at the names carved high up on the huge trunk and asked how people had put them up there.
"They carved them a long time ago, baby boy, and the tree...grew up."
Teri came in, and my father, and a few other family members. Sebastian was sad that my mother, baffled by the dense leaf canopy, had gone ahead to see the lilacs, and that his cousins had run off even earlier; they never saw the tree. But I told him we'd try to come back with them all some day, and that he and I would come back again in any case.
I took some video with my phone, but it didn't come out very well - and my phone doesn't save video in a format that works with YouTube, I believe.
After a while we went out and walked on to the lilacs. The smells! There are dozens of different types of lilacs, ranging in color from bright white to all shades of dark red, purple, and blue; the smells also varied. We went from flower to flower, smelling each one. Sebastian did too, and he loved them.
"They're delightful! Exquisite!" he proclaimed over and over again, in ridiculously cultured tones. For his favorites he literally swooned with delight, throwing himself down on the ground. He was having the time of his life.
It was almost too much; everyone walking by was friendly and happy, and the blossoms and scents were incredible. But eventually we reached the end of the lilacs.
Slowly we headed back in a great circle to the cars. It was almost eight o'clock; the sun was quite low in the sky, though there was still plenty of light. Sebastian started complaining about his feet and legs, trying to get us to carry him. My brother carried him on his back for a while.
We got to the entrance, hugged and kissed everyone goodbye and drove home. Teri and I were sure that Sebastian would fall asleep in the car, but to our amazement he stayed awake through the whole trip. When we got home he ate the second half of his sub, and then went upstairs; I read him Jenny and the Cat Club, and then sang to him until he fell asleep.
After that I had to run out to pick up a couple of prescriptions from CVS for me and Teri. I ended up getting to bed a little after midnight. The next day I was dead tired, and my feet still hurt from all the walking; but it was worth it.
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On the Red Sox game: I half pay attention to these things and find it odd that the Baltimore folk pulled a pitcher who was apparently performing brilliantly to put in the guy who lost the game for them. One wonders if they thought he'd get hurt, or if they're emulating the tactical prowess of the Bush administration in Iraq.
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I looked for aerial shots online, but none of them have anywhere near the resolution I need to identify a specific tree.
With any luck we'll go visit it within the month, though, and I'll get some pictures.
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http://www.flickr.com/photos/vacilamos/1066758891/