The walnut tree is a wow tree. Do not let your neighbors tell you to hate it. The three-story tree pays most of your electric bill in summer. It soothes your guests at outdoor parties. It turns your study into a tree house. The green shade induces sleep. In fall, the leaves hang on and on, a ‘60s lime yellow green, immense unpretty leaves, while the powdery black fruit husks kill your lawn, unrakable.
What the neighbors do not know: fallen walnut leaves smell like Beechnut Gum. And that morning when you walk out and all the leaves are down—the yellow and aloft now down and brown—no one could deliver this kind of pleasure in a UPS truck.
Rake until your heart says Uncle!
What the neighbors do not know: fallen walnut leaves smell like Beechnut Gum. And that morning when you walk out and all the leaves are down—the yellow and aloft now down and brown—no one could deliver this kind of pleasure in a UPS truck.
Rake until your heart says Uncle!
