An Ode to Our Backyard

Trees seduced my wife and me into buying our house. In 1998, we moved to Seattle, where I had grown up. Like most people, we made the home tour scene, seeing the good, the bad, and the truly ugly. Who would want an all-black (all fixtures, too) bathroom? Then one day, our agent sent us to a neighborhood well outside of my youthful experiences. Plain from the outside with a grass front yard, a lone crabapple, and three sad-looking rhododendron, the house was equally as unadorned inside with renter’s-white walls and tan carpets. But the backyard was beyond compare: three magnificent Douglas firs, the biggest of which we couldn’t wrap our arms around.

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