Wishtree

by Katherine Applegate

Trees have a rather complicated relationship with people, after all. One minute you’re hugging us. The next minute you’re turning us into tables and tongue depressors.

Trees can’t tell jokes. But we can certainly tell stories.

Somewhere in Los Angeles there’s a palm tree who insists on being called Karma, but you know how Californians can be.

I’ve met crows named WindChime, EighteenWheeler, and GrouchyCabDriver, not to mention a few others that are not appropriate for polite company.

Some trees are male. Some trees are female. And some, like me, are both.

What can I say? Nature is tricky. And people are … well, sorry, but most of you aren’t that observant.

“This isn’t going to work, Red,” Bongo said, strutting back and forth on the lawn. “Pessimist,” I said. “Optimist,” she replied.