Dear O isami,
Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over.
Love, M.
Silly isn’t it? All this for a tree? But I can’t deny my feelings for Acer japonicum O isami, or any Japanese maple for that matter. And it’s only by chance that a favorite nursery man would bring us together when he came to stay with us last spring and kindly inquired if there was anything specific that he should bring up. I had been intrigued by a specific leaf shape on a Japanese maple, but was new to the terminology that accompanies the species Acer japonicum. I had trouble communicating what I was looking for, so I did what any reasonable person would do, I turned to Google. Eventually I found a photo of the leaf shape I was looking for. I emailed the reference photo and received a positive response, “I think I have something you’ll like.”
When Kevin arrived, he promptly unloaded his trailer to set up his booth for the IMA Perennial Premiere. He showed me the tree he had selected and I was smitten. I learned that this particular leaf form is known as “full moon” due to its large, rounded form. As I’ve stated before, I’m a foliage guy. I didn’t really care how big the tree did or didn’t get. It made no difference to me whether it would have good fall color or not. I wanted that leaf!
When all was said and done, we purchased 3 Japanese maples that weekend. All planted and watered in, they endured a very hot summer as they acclimated to their new digs. Like any young romance, it’s at this point that you’re the most vulnerable no matter how strong your love. Everybody knows that love is not necessarily permanent. And you have to work at it. So I did. I watered. I mulched. I even staked for goodness sake. Devoted and true, I focused all my attention on O isami all summer long.
When fall finally rolled around, I’d wondered if all my doting and pampering had been for not. No signs of reciprocation. I didn’t panic though. I’ve learned not to expect much from newly planted trees. Some trees wait ages to finally tell their gardener that they love them. Prepared for a long wait-and-see period, I remained committed. Then out of nowhere, as if to declare the formation of our romantic partnership, O isami turned all sensuous with luxurious shades of scarlet, orange and yellow mixed together. My expectations were met– exceeded, and I fell in love, in fall.
Some people maintain that falling in love in the truest sense of the phrase, not just infatuation, is really the closest most of us come to seeing life in its spiritual form. I would add that gardening, in the truest sense of the word, is also. When I think of the future, I can’t imagine it without Acer japonicum O isami. It must be true love.
P. S. Fall in love whenever you can.