Wishing Tree

The backyard at the house my parents are working on has a couple big selling points for me, namely, oak trees.



Can you see some of the trunks through the window?
(Please excuse the overgrowth. That will be gone this winter,
thanks to Granddad's mighty Bush Hog.)

Besides the obvious marking advantages that trees provide, I especially like oaks because they produce acorns. And what small, creeping beast feeds on acorns?
Oh yes.
Squirrels.
The heat has kept the squirrels away for the last several weekends, but fortunately, they're not very bright animals and keep coming back. And when mother plants a garden I suspect that will lure one or two of them into my private hunting ground. I relish the prospect.



Wishing tree

My grandmother Pearl taught me that every hound must have a wishing tree. This is a tree that you spend a dedicated amount of time gazing up into per day. Eventually, by sheer force of your houndly will, a squirrel will appear in its branches. That's all there is to it.
Pearl told me that a wishing tree is a good way to build character and develop patience. When we lived in Kentucky, she would spend at least 15 minutes per day looking up into her wishing tree; I have adopted a tree or two in Arlington but because our walk routes change day to day, I can't get to them daily and it's just not the same.
I am truly looking forward to spending some quality time with my Maryland wishing tree.