by Bruce Boyers,
For me, trees have always been a source of rare and exquisite beauty. I spent the first six years of my childhood in the mountain community of Idyllwild, California—and some of the towering, gnarled, sweet-smelling pines that surrounded my youth had such forceful personalities that I all but named them. I certainly never forgot them; when returning as an adult, it was almost instinctual to seek them out and say hello, and to practically cry if I found one had been cut down.
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