|Whispering beech tree? Surely, you jest!|
Normally, it just stands somewhat still in the middle of the side yard where Tom has continued his arboretum, and refuses to loosen hold of its leaves.
|Stubborn tree, clinging to spent leaves|
Here it is mid May and still it has virtually all the leaves it started with last autumn.
|I hear nothing!|
|Nest up yonder! Empty but perhaps not for long|
Oh, did I tell you I found a nest in the tree? Well, I did! It was empty as of the last I looked, but who knows? There could be someone scoping it out for raising a future brood. I did see Mr. Robin hanging around as I was taking photos, so....one never knows! That would be rather nice.
But until new growth unfurls, I'm stuck with the old, dried up foliage, which incidentally, I recently caught whispering--or perhaps I should call it wuthering such as they do in Yorkshire, GB? Well, it could go either way. Being we live on top of a ridge--a rather windy one-- we often can hear the wind blowing through foliage of all sorts, young and old, new and dried up, through tall grass clumps, hedges of shrubs or stands of trees.