Arboretum
by Conrad Schaefer
In this forest, trees are cared for.
They are from all over, but live
here as exotic orphans surrounded
by crowds of cottonwoods lining
the creek. Standing in neat rows,
the younger ones require iron
braces, because there are no trees
able to break the wind for them.
These trees are all tube fed with
hoses climbing through their roots
jutting through to their trunks. They
are zip tied with plastic wire and
embedded with nozzles. In the
summer and fall, some of them
produce nuts, which many winged
visitors come to eat. I don’t know
who planted these trees, but one
can still find crepuscular water
beating from the tubes. In the heat,
it is dry heat, except for the
occasional cicadas, the frequent
crickets, and other noisy insects
which fill the air with sounds of
moisture and humid hubbub. If you
visit, it is important to know that
the geese will calm down with you
most times of the year. There are
large construction vehicles piling
on the horizon from the bench. By
the meadow (where they are now
uprooting mounds of muddy tubes
and wires from underneath the
grass), ad hoc ponds form, where
ducks will swim in the shallows.
Did I already tell you that geese
seasonally nest nearby? Over by the
irrigation ditch, you’ll find fresh
feathered goslings in June.
Sometimes in May they will get
stuck behind the chain link fence.