“We don’t have those trees where I am,” she said pointing. “Are they sycamores?” she asked me.
What my daughter’s mother-in-law does not understand is that her question took me back over 45 years ago to when I finished high school. What my daughter’s mother-in-law does not know is that I took an aptitude test after I graduated high school because I had no idea what I wanted to be. The top recommendation came back – “botanist”.
I grew up in a small walk-up apartment in the city I had no experience with plants and could not envision myself spending my life grafting vegetation to create new species
I have long since left the city and I have become an avid gardener.
I knew enough to look up at the leaves.
“No,” I answered. “They are maple trees. See the leaves?”
“Oh yes,” my daughter’s m-i-l said.
But the tree trunks looked like army fatigues so I googled the tree up. Lo and behold these were sycamore maple trees.
Our shared granddaughter was sitting in between us. I leaned over to Linda. “ The trees are hybrids just like our granddaughter,” I said. “Look! June has your nose and my hair!”