So What’s With the Blue Tree?

Well, now that you’ve asked, I’ll admit it. It’s my fault.

The ‘Forest Pansy’ redbud tree leafed out last spring and then dropped every single leaf a few weeks later. A dreaded virus? A bump from a produce truck? A roaming goat? Anything is possible at the Glasbern, and we will never know what caused the sudden leaf drop. The tree remained naked for weeks, saddening the landscape around it. And for weeks I suggested to the property manager that it was only getting deader, and the only solution I could think of involved a chainsaw. But still the dead tree greeted me every week when I came to the garden. One late July day as I weeded and pruned it occurred to me how lively the branches would look—if only they were not gray. I was midway into that thought when owner Al Granger raced up on his 4-wheeler (like magic) and asked, “Need anything?”

“As a matter of fact …,” I replied, “I was just thinking about a project.” Now what you need to understand is that Al loves projects. He lives for projects. You will quickly realize this if you just look around at the grounds and barns and lodges. “What project?” he asked. (aha, I thought with a glimmer of hope)

“I would like that dead tree down there to be blue,” I responded, pointing. The typical farm owner would let out a guffaw and wheel away. After all there were cattle to feed, fences to mend, fields to mow, events to plan. But nothing about the Glasbern is typical. “What color blue?” he asked.

Between that Friday and the next Al picked a chicory flower, took it to the paint store, and brought back a couple of gallons of chicory-colored paint. When I came back a week later the tree was the exact blue of chicory, which is also the color of the sky on a brilliant summer day (but try taking that to the paint store). It was elegant and majestic. It was a sensation!

But this is not the end of the story.

Guests marveled at the blue tree over the next few weeks. They photographed it and touched it. They posed with it. And after a period of being noticed and admired, the tree, which had been bare for well over a month, began to grow leaves! I kid you not. It was almost as if its little taste of fame gave it a reason to live.

Last summer, the blue tree was a lively note of surprise in the choreography of the garden. Now that winter is here it stands cool and regal in the snow-covered landscape. In a couple of months it may magically spring back to life. But, more likely, the color will fade and with it the dying spirit of the tree.

A consulting company visited the Glasbern the other week and suggested that the blue tree was somewhat out of place. You may agree, or you may not. Either way, I believe there is a lesson to be learned.

Life is fleeting.

Live it colorfully.