At the local Elementary school there used to be a parade of beautiful pale pink cherry trees scattering their blossoms all along the sidewalk each spring. They were a little like the beauty queens of White Rock in the spring, but after they finished blooming, it was like “girls gone wild, and even wilder.”
Taunting branches wound their way outwards, catching hair, and hats as you walked by in summer. Insects scrapbooked with lace cut leaves, that browned and curled up all summer. In the winter they resembled old skeletons with arthritis, so painful did they look.
The city decided to replace them with more demure, and smaller sized trees last fall. And as we walked by the other day I noticed these beautiful yellow blossoms.
Clearly I am feeling that I should recognize these trees, but I don’t. It is simply like a matter of pretending during a conversation with a stranger that you know who they are. When all along, you want to say, excuse me, but have we met before? And you don’t want to insult them by saying that.
So you nod, and smile, and pick neutral subjects, all the while racking your brain, trying vainly to remember whom you are speaking with. Sometimes I think that we should all have name tags. That would certainly help me when I run into a old customer from the nursery.
So can you help identify it, this is a small tree right now, and I am sure it is not going to be too large, the yellow blossoms are clear, and similar to a Edgeworthia, but not fragrant that I can tell. Definitely a tree, not a shrub. I am stumped, help me out if you can. Oh, and next time if you run into me, tell me who you are, before I melt into a puddle of embarrassment please.