…where I live was called ‘Birchwood’ by the original residents, who began building homes along the northernmost lakefront back in the 1910s. There were woods filled with white birch trees, which must have been an amazing sight…the paper-white birchbark against the stunning, ever-changing blues of Lake Michigan!
One hundred years later, there are only a few birch trees left; as a matter of fact, seven of them, at least eighty years old, were hacked down about five blocks north of my building just this past Autumn!
I’ve been told that the City of Chicago is removing paper-white birch trees because they are infested by some type of pest; I’ll do some research and have more on that at a later date.
This tree stands in the front corner of a ‘garden/yard’, a bit more than a block north. It looks quite old and not in the best of health, yet it has set leaves each of the previous five Springs since I moved here. Hence, I have given it the title:
At the east end of my street is the lake…powerful Lake Michigan. The old beach is gone, covered with huge rocks to prevent erosion and to keep huge waves from reaching and damaging the shore. There are also many dead tree branches like the one below, which I am certain provide cover for all sorts of little scurrying animals…I guess they have to live somewhere, yes?