Parachute Training

by Susan Koshute

Parachute training with the serviceberry tree

The sign in the front yard provided only a puzzling, visual clue about what was taking place: “PARACHUTE TRAINING” written in bubbly letters on blue construction paper was clipped to the white draping around the serviceberry sapling. On the ground three flattened, laughing youngsters pretended to have just landed.

In reality we were preparing for the 2002 invasion of the periodical cicadas. Soon hordes of Brood VIII would tunnel upward and out of the ground to swarm and mate. Experts advised that young trees, vulnerable to damage by egg-laying females be covered. The sheer curtain wrapped securely with duct tape around the tree’s crown was not just a pretense. This “PARACHUTE” had landed.

Sometimes nature needs a little help.

My desire for acquiring a serviceberry tree began ten years earlier during a summer camping trip in Blackwater Falls, West Virginia. The nature museum exhibit shared the folklore of its name and piqued my interest to see the beautiful white blossoms that indicate the thawing of frozen dirt and the arrival of spring. About five months after planting the long-awaited tree, I discovered that the cultivar, “Autumn Brilliance” proved it was truly a multi-season specimen.

Serviceberry tree in autumn

Providentially planted by the corner of our front porch, its wide and airy branches create a make-believe forest along with front row seating for the ongoing outdoor show: an American robin comically attempting a flyby to grab the last of the ripened spring berries off a thin twig; blue jays asserting their size towards the sparrows to claim the juicy fruit; and the whistle of the cedar waxwing flock signaling it’s time to come and get their favorite food.

During the winter, I call the tree a “picnic table” for my feathered friends, who bring black sunflower seeds from neighborhood feeders to perch there.

Admittedly, I have never hugged this tree, although I am very fond of it. Not quite a family mascot, it is a landmark. Not a photo studio, it is a familiar backdrop for capturing special occasions on camera. Its shade has created the perfect conditions to continue the Middle Ages tradition of a Mary flower garden. Often pedestrians walking by slow down to indulge in the loveliness of the scene. Indeed, this serviceberry tree has “served” us all very well.

Susan Koshute has lived by the Ohio River, in Beaver PA since her college days. Whenever possible, Susan loves to be outdoors. Not quite an empty-nester, after homeschooling for 23 years, what a pleasure to have free time. Susan found Plant Love Stories after finding the quote "where flowers bloom so does hope" by Ladybird Johnson, "and discovering the feature about us in Wildflower Magazine.

Tulips Galore

by Lisa Hill McDonough

I finally made it to Keukenhoff Gardens in the Netherlands as part of a River Cruise in April 2019. We took our chances guessing which week would be the best, and we lucked out.

Under a clear blue sky with a bit of chill in the air, we arrived as the gates opened. Immediately all the different vistas with all the different tulips took our breath away. It was as if someone had taken a giant paint brush to paint all the swaths of colors —all colors of the rainbow. The Keukenhoff Gardens are a sight to be seen by all plant lovers — and a sight that will convert all to being plant lovers through the sheer wonder of it all.

Lisa was a stay at home Mom to six rambunctious kids (and claims she loved every minute of the chaos). Now that they are all launched, she is a community activist on arts and culture boards in Worcester, Massachusetts.

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photo credits: Lisa Hill McDonough

When Life Gives You a Lemon Tree . . .

by Colin Lewis

Colin and his (very happy) lemon tree, Cynthia.

What teenager in their right mind would want a lemon tree for their birthday? 

This teenager happened to be me. My favorite fruit--ever since I was little--is a lemon. I loved everything lemon: drinking lemonade, eating lemon meringue pies and cookies, and even eating the slices of lemons most people  put in their water glass. I was obsessed with lemons. 

As a joke for my 15th birthday, I asked for a lemon tree. To my surprise, a week later, I received a large, green package in the mail from my Aunt Melissa. Not knowing what to expect, I opened the box quickly (as any teenager would do) and a small tree dropped at my feet. I was utterly dumbfounded and confused as to why I got a tree for my birthday. The tree at my feet did not really look like a tree at all, to me it looked like one single woody branch with a few green leaves. This sad looking tree was no more than a foot tall and had wet soil leaking all over my shoes. 

I instantly called up my Aunt to find out why she gifted this unexpected surprise. She told me it was a Meyer Lemon Tree and she got it as a gag gift. She also thought it would be neat if I could actually grow a Meyer Lemon, like my great-grandfather once did. I told her to not expect this tree to live long because I was still in high school and was always running back and forth between school, tennis practice, and other after-school activities. Nevertheless, I accepted my Aunt’s challenge and studied how to keep a lemon tree alive in Pennsylvania, where the temperature  can range all the way from below 0°F to above 90°F. Since it was still early June, I decided I would keep the tree outside until the weather turned in the fall. I went to my neighborhood’s local nursery and bought a fairly large pot for my lemon tree. I picked the sunniest spot in our yard and kept it there for the time being. 

Having my own lemon tree for the first couple of months was pretty boring. I watered it every so often and moved it inside when there were strong winds and storms. When fall arrived in October, I moved my tree to my bedroom in front of a large window where it could get adequate sun. The fall and winter season took me by surprise as my tree started to lose many leaves. I worried that it would lose all of its leaves because it lack enough sun and was cold because it was too close to the window. I did some more research, and bought a heating pad and a grow light for my room. My tree started to look a lot healthier and I could see buds of new growth appearing as well. This was also when my tree first produced its first flowers. I was really excited by this because it meant I was doing a good job in keeping this tree alive. I even pollinated each flower when they opened by using a q-tip and swabbing each flower. Unfortunately, I did not get any lemons to grow by doing this. 

My tree is now named Cynthia. She earned this name because when I bring her inside for the winter, she gets raggedy and rough looking. This is just like in the show called “The Rugrats,” one of the main characters, Angelica, has a doll named Cynthia who has the same description.

Currently, I am 19 years old and a sophomore at the University of Pittsburgh. My lemon tree has never been healthier. My tree has grown so much over the past  4 years. I’ve already replaced the tree’s pot three times and I’m worried the next time I need to get a larger pot, I will not be able to carry my tree anymore. My tree is now named Cynthia. She earned this name because when I bring her inside for the winter, she gets raggedy and rough looking. This is just like in the show called “The Rugrats,” one of the main characters, Angelica, has a doll named Cynthia who has the same description. Having this lemon tree has taught me how to be more responsible and caring about plants. I have since acquired a knack for collecting plants and I currently have Bamboo, Aloe, and a lemon tree sapling I grew from a lemon from this very tree. However, I still struggle during the winter months, so if anyone reading this has any tips, please don’t hesitate to email me at cmlewis403@gmail.com.

Colin is a 19-year-old biology major at the University of Pittsburgh and a Pittsburgh native.

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Photo Credits: Top Photo provided by the Author; Bottom Photo by Emily Sanburg on Unsplash