As a child I was fascinated by this sweet smelling tree that seemed to grow everywhere.  I used to close my eyes and rub its fallen silky plumes against my cheek.  Pictured here is a tiny survivor that still rises out of the remnants of one that was once much bigger and lives on the back of our property in the alley.  It is a treasured heirloom that has grown higher than our fence and graces our yard, bending daintily toward our little koi pond.  I was upset to learn years ago they are now considered “trash” trees and one can hardly find them anymore unless they’re growing wild along the creek banks.  According to what I could dig up, (no pun intended) they were introduced to this continent as an ornamental about 250 years ago and it has established itself across much of the eastern United States.  Apparently it has been called the “Messmosa” and that is part of why it is now considered unfavorable.  Next to the magical Weeping Willow, it is the most charming tree I know.  I have also blogged about the enchanting “wooden rose tree”, as we call it, (the Deodar cedar) and I find the Redwoods to be the most magestic of them all.  William Blake, the English poet, once said this:

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.  Some see nature all ridicule and deformity … and some scarce see nature at all.  But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.”

We are lucky to have this delicate, fragrant tree along with our mighty oaks.  I believe I would like another Mimosa as I go back outside to sit under our fig tree and admire it.