Mimosas

No, not the kind you drink at baby showers. I'm talking about the trees. I parked my car under one the other day and it reminded me that my Grandparents had two huge Mimosa trees in their front yard when I was a kid and I spent many happy hours perched up in them. I loved their soft, fern like leaves and the feathery hot pink blooms that smell so good and attract butterflies and hummingbirds, too. There is something about the way their branches spread out so wide that makes them perfect for climbing. My Grandparents also had a gigantic Weeping Willow in the backyard, that made a perfect playhouse under the fall of branches in the cool shade. My friends and I would set up little homesteads in there and play all day. There was also another tree of some sort in the backyard that had very slippery bark. My Granddad could take out his ubiquitous pocket knife and slice off a little twig from that tree, about the diameter of a pencil, cut a notch or two in it and the bark would slip up and down it, making an instant whistle. It was so cool! Sadly enough, as I zoom into look at their old house on Google Earth, I see that the Mimosa trees are no more. The Weeping Willow is gone, also, but there is a tree where the 'Slippery Bark' tree was that could possibly be the same tree and it looks like the big Magnolia is still out front. The neighborhood has changed. It was so 'out in the country' when I was a kid. I still remember hearing the far off train whistles at night and sleeping with the attic fan on and the windows open. Long white curtains fluttered gracefully in the breeze like friendly ghosts and I always woke in the morning to a chorus of birds and the smell of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. I spent a lot of time at my Grandparents' red brick home when I was a child and was allowed to eat as much ice cream as I wanted. I am almost afraid to drive by the house when I go to Tulsa to visit, because I think I would be overcome with memories and sad that it didn't look the same. God forbid someone has neglected it. I remember every tiny detail of that house, from the copper pulls on the cabinets to the tiny hexagonal aqua tile in the bathroom and I still dream that I'm there quite often. Sometimes my Grandparents are even there with me and I know, in my dream, that they have passed on and what a rare opportunity I am afforded to get to spend some more time with them. Next time, I'll be sure and look out the big plate glass window in the front room and see the Mimosa Trees. I know they'll be there!