When we moved into this apartment in 2005 there was a big tulip tree right outside our window. It bloomed all over in the spring, big white and pink petals. Year round it covered two of our living room windows and our bathroom window. A few of the branches scraped against the glass, so much so that in the second year here the tulips on those branches bloomed through summer, into fall, and then once even in the middle of winter. Just a few buds, emerging right against the window due to the heat that radiated from our home. We adored this tree. The braches were so wiry and the tree so large that no one could see into our windows. We walked around naked and never worried because the tree protected our privacy.
“Someday,” we’d say. “When we have a house, we should plant a tulip tree.”
One day last spring I came home from work, walked across the courtyard lawn, looked at our building, then our living room windows and I felt my stomach drop. Something was wrong. It took me a good five seconds to figure out what was wrong. They’d cut down the tree.
And so I did what I always do in times of strife. I cried. An incredibly useful evolutionary tool, that. I’m a totally emotional girl who cries when she finds out a pretty tree (that wasn’t even hers) has been cut down. I called John and I told him and I cried. He called the apartment company and asked why they’d cut it down. It was planted way too close to the building and had begun to crack the foundation. But you know there must be another part to this story, right? Right.
It’s been a year and the stump is still there, right next to my garden. It’s a little sad to see the bit that remains of our tree. And then this spring we noticed something coming up where the tree had been, and as it grew it looked a whole lot like…
Holy crap. It is.
That thing is making for a comeback right out from the place it was cut down. And yes, I realize they will just come and cut it down again. But I’ve started looking into transplanting. Obviously the roots are very alive and if it can come back from that, a stalk or two might be strong enough to transplant. We might be able to take our tulip tree with us when we go and plant it in our yard on that long-off someday when we own a house.
I would never had expected a tulip tree to be such a stubborn badass. I feel like we have a lot in common.
I like your tulip tree story. Just thought I would let you know somebody read it.
i have a 6metre high tulip tree on our front lawn,i was told it was a tulip tree but when i looked at pictures they had totally different laeves but then to my relief i found your story along with picture and its identical. no one will cut ours down as its ours thank god