Points of focus

     How often does bonsai  leak out into your real life?

Sure it’s easy to let the mind wander and see what pruning or wiring ought to be done on a (full-size)tree you pass on a country road. And the urge to examine nursery stock or landscape planting with a critical eye never seems to fade away.

     There is a white pine seedling that popped up in the front flower bed awhile back. Rather that cut it off, I  pulled the candles. The next year I did the same thing.  This has gone on to the point where years later, there is a nice, thick tree,  a tree that is almost too large to de-candle by hand. This year the job got done by strong arming  both my kids into giving a hand.  Next to the pine is a standard  red berry “Christmas” holly. No joke, I actually had a pair of shears in my hand and was going to snip off every growing tip so shape and encourage fullness. The tree is six feet tall and probably four feet wide!  Not sure what I was thinking, but it quickly became apparent that trying to do this job “bonsai” style” would take all day.  Standard hedge clippers got the work done in less than five minutes.

     That mental  urge to do things the bonsai way can be hard to kick. And sometimes it seems, it makes bonsai our only form of reference.

Like most of us, I spend a fair amount of time with the bonsai in my backyard. If I can’t be found in the house, my family knows to find me there. Usually-almost always –I’m on my own, so that bonsai space is a bit of a refuge and sanctuary.   I’ve made the joke more than once that my kids request for a swing set or trampoline was turned down because there wasn’t room for that AND the trees (I was only half joking, OK, ¾ joking).

      That solitary pursuit of bonsai may be restful and calm, but can mean that those around us don’t know nearly as much about bonsai as we assume. This knowledge gap was pointed out to me a few years ago in a conversation with my father, who worked as a carpenter all his life. He could identify a plank of wood simply by species and sometimes growth region at first glance, but his breakdown of living trees was  “Christmas trees” and  “ones you have to rake in the fall”.

 An exaggeration for comic effect, but not by much.

Assuming that those around us know what we know simply by living in the same house prompted the following text exchange with my son not so long ago:

Me: I think I missed a tree, make sure the big crabapple is wet.

Son: which one is that?

Me: the one with flowers

Son: which one?

Me: the crab apple-green pot

Son: Which green pot?

Me: the rectangle!

This whole topic of assuming knowledge was brought home to me once again on a recent overcast morning, when rain was probable. I was heading out the back door to water when my wife asked if I really needed to water today.  Like many “civilians”  think I fuss too much. Maybe I do, but I have gotten better-we can go out of town and I usually only wonder out loud if the neighbor kid remembered to come over maybe once or twice.  She had no idea why I was taking the time to water when it was probably going to rain any way. The fact that  you can’t rely on the rain to come, or to be adequate water if it does, and for the right amount of water to get into that little pot where all concepts she’s never had to deal with