The silver poplar leaves are turning yellow now, after we applied the poison to kill it. Some might say “why not just cut the tree down?” That won’t do in this case as that would leave all the little shoots to keep on growing. My son-in-law did the painting for me, and to make doubly sure, I sprayed the young shoots with a killing mixture to speed the process. I will need to have a tree cutter come in and remove it eventually. Then perhaps the Bermuda will grow better again on that side of the yard.
The center part of the trellis outside the west window is now supporting a pretty silk-pod vine. I like it best of all, for it dies down in the fall, which gives one a chance to do some painting if needed. And the view through it from inside the dining room door gives my spirit a daily lift. The western view of my green lawn and the trees on the alley blend perfectly with the large back lawn of my good neighbor, giving me a feeling of space and lot of elbow room. One can spend hours watching the sunlight and shadows playing tag with each other.
The ever restless swaying of the limbs is like the surf of the ocean. And to try to identify all the different shades of green is an education in color.
From my back porch I can count six or eight hues of green. And the the black and gray of the tree trunks makes a very pretty picture. The colors are so vivid, especially after a rain.
I never tire of the scene from my back porch.
~~ Lucille Ann Bigler
This essay was written by my grandmother, Lucile Ann Bigler, probably half a century ago. It was found, undated, in a small box of her manuscripts. Probable date is 1960-something.