On a cold February morning, a maple with a bucket on it can sound more awake than the rest of the garden. The beds are still flat. The lawn is patched with old snow. The buds on the branches look tight and undecided. Then, from a small metal spout in the bark, a clear drop gathers, falls, and ticks against…
By the last morning of the year, a deciduous tree has usually stopped pretending. The leaves are gone. The soft green noise of summer has fallen away. Every fork, scar, old pruning cut, and awkward branch angle is suddenly visible against the winter sky. That is when the green clump looks most suspicious. High in an apple, poplar, maple, hawthorn,…
