gutter maples

the magical impossibility of snow, trees, and children

Winter is coming slowly but surely here. It has been getting cold. A brief real chill, the kind that reminds you of last winter. This morning, for instance, it was 30 degrees and frosty, the leaves dusted white, a slight crunch underfoot. But now, it is warm and sunny, which lulls me into thinking that we’ve got time. But that’s a lie. It’s going to happen, winter, and probably much sooner than later. So with much denial and dragging of feet, we have been getting after it, the work of winterizing the house, finding our big coats, the mittens that are more like tiny quilts for hands, and all the serious socks. Chris turned the water off outside before he left for LA, changed the fluids in the car, and we started thinking seriously about putting the cover on the Gazebo. But I told him to wait. Even though it’s way too cold for sitting outside. I needed just a few more nights of pulling up in the dark to see it all lit up. On Monday, things got serious when a young and friendly gutter guy showed up. This is a responsibility of home ownership that never entered my mind as an almost lifelong renter. But clean them you must, or all sorts of horrible calamities ensue. And in this, our new house, the gutters had been seriously neglected. Words like mud, moss, and plant life were uttered. After a few hours of work, I heard a knock at the door, and the gutter guy leaned in to say he was all done. Smiling as he was leaving, he looked over my shoulder at my eleven-year-old, winked, and said, “I put those two little trees on the back porch for ya.” Apparently, when we got home, Esme had run up to the second floor, out onto the balcony, and had a very serious discussion with our gutter guy about the “two little maple trees” she had seen growing there out on the edge at the top of the house. They had both come to terms and agreed a rescue was necessary because, as she explained, “they were growing in the gutter! That’s an impossible thing to do, Mom! We just had to give them a chance!” And so now, one of them is resting, planted in a bowl in the Gazebo, enjoying the last few evenings of twinkle lights. The other is sitting atop the Piano and has been enjoying Esme’s newly assigned Christmas tunes. And all week as I’ve been running around, getting ready to host our first Thanksgiving in this new space, worrying about seating, and wishing I were the kind of person who made their own placemats because sheesh, they’re expensive. I keep stopping and looking at the little maple trees planted by my kid in their new and safe corners of our world. We’ve been talking about driving them out to the woods somewhere in the spring, planting them in a spot with more possibilities — giving them a real chance. For now, they look happy. And I wonder if they knew everything, somehow, was all going to work out. Maybe they were counting on it, just like I’m counting on snow. It’s coming, best get ready. Some things feel impossible. But they happen anyway. Like snow falling from the sky, trees sprouting from gutters, and children noticing what really needs taking care of — what really needs saving.

gutter maple

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What are you taking care of this week, my friends? It’s almost Thanksgiving. If you’re hosting, my spirit is with you in the hope and dream of a bird that is not dry or overcooked (traditionally, how I cook my bird). If you’re traveling, I wish for you a smooth journey and the feeling of adventure, not a schlep. And if you’re showing up at a gathering with a side dish, take a deep breath, and do put your feet up! I hope you all have a delicious week. And I’m so grateful you’re here.

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