While on a garden tour in April 2008, I saw a grancy greybeard tree in bloom for the first time. The white, fringy flowers of this Alabama native dancing in the breeze warmed my heart. The property owner allowed us to harvest seedlings so I gently prized two three inch babies from the soil under the tree, gently placed them in a styrofoam cup with a little water from my drinking water and carried them in my hands for hours until I got home to plant them in my backyard. Both little trees thrived; reaching the six foot mark this spring. Sadly, a large dead tree from the back side of my property fell yesterday, crushing one of my precious grancy greybeards. I didn't discover this tragedy until I got home from work yesterday afternoon. I immediately grabbed my gloves and pruning saw in a desperate attempt to see if the tree could be saved. After thirty minutes of sawing, dragging limbs away, and clearing debris, I was able to release the tree. It stood itself back up and for a moment I thought perhaps its wounds were not fatal. However, closer inspection revealed all the limbs on one side had been stripped, cracked or broken off, injuries from which the tree would never recover.
It was with great sadness, that I cut my precious little tree down. As I laid it on the debris pile, I stroked its glossy leaves and shed a few tears. Good-bye dear tree.
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