Wishtree

Here, Red formally introduces themself: “Maybe we’ve met? Oak tree near the elementary school? Big, but not too? Sweet shade in the summer, fine color in the fall?” (5). Red is proud to be a northern red oak, and gives their scientific name: Quercus rubra. Red proudly boasts about their brilliant red color, which shines brightest during the fall. Red also mentions that their roots are enterprising as they snake through the soil. Moreover, all trees go by their colloquial species name, says Red: “That’s how it is in the tree world. We don’t need names to tell one another apart” (6). To Red, it’s fortunate for the organization of the human world that humans do not follow the same naming convention. 

Red is also known as the neighborhood’s Wishtree—a tradition that started when Red wasn’t “much more than a tiny seed with higher aspirations” (9). Every May 1st, townspeople come from near and far to adorn Red’s branches with small strips of paper, fabric, or small items of clothing that bear a wish: “Wishtrees have a long and honorable history, going back centuries. There are many in Ireland, where they are usually hawthorns or the occasional ash tree. But you can find wishtrees all over the world” (11). Red then recites some of the wishes heard and seen over the years, including a wish for a flying skateboard, a wish that a teacher’s grumpiness would cease, and a wish to no longer be lonely: “So many wishes,” Red says, “Grand and goofy, selfish and sweet” (12). Despite the honor of being the town’s wishtree, Red thinks they look like they are covered in garbage by the end of May. 

Red concedes that they are more talkative than other trees: However, they do know how to keep a secret. Trees can keep the secrets of humans, however, as trees don’t really have the option of not listening when people inevitably talk to them. Red introduces the crow Bongo, who is Red’s best friend. Red has known Bongo “since she was nothing but a pecking beak in a speckled egg” (14). Although Red and Bongo don’t agree about everything, this difference of opinion is common to all friendships in nature. Bongo does, however, believe Red to be an incurable optimist, while Red feels Bongo to be too pessimistic for her young age.

Crows, says Red, always choose their names after their first flight, and may change their names as many times as they like. They may name themselves with human names, after items that they like, after flight maneuvers, or even after the sounds that they like to mimic. Bongo named herself after the drum that four middle-schoolers use in their garage band on the block: “The band has yet to perform outside of the garage, but Bongo loves to sit on the roof and sway to their music” (16). 

Here, Red provides more details about their dual male-female nature. Over the course of their life, they’ve learned that botanists call the trees that have discrete sexes “dioecious,” while trees like themself are called “monoecious.” Red playfully jokes that this fact is evidence that trees have a more intriguing existence than humans often give them credit for. 

Trees and crows do have one thing in common: They do not talk to humans. Trees and crows share this characteristic with the entire natural world. Red suggests that this tradition remains for the safety and protection of the natural world. Although there have been many times that Red wished they spoke up to help human beings, they have never broken this sacrosanct rule. Red humorously recalls the time that a neighborhood frog named Fly accidentally apologized to a mailman he startled. The mailman dismissed the incident as a hallucination and retired soon after. Red also explains tree communication. Just as humans have varied and intricate ways to communicate with each other, trees “build invisible bridges to connect with the world [...] in a mysterious dance of sunlight and sugar, water and wind and soil” (21). Each living thing, from the frog to the spider to the eagle, devises unique ways to communicate and connect with the world.  

Red isn’t simply a tree. They also provide a home for a myriad of creatures. Red’s hollows, in particular, have provided safe shelter to many animals—and one human—over the years: “Hollows happen for many reasons,” says Red, “Woodpeckers. Fallen branches. Lightning. Disease. Burrowing insects” (24). But no matter their harsh, painful, or embarrassing beginnings, hollows eventually heal into a safe shelter.

Red remarks that this spring has been especially fruitful for the animals: Red currently houses several animal families with new babies in their three hollows. These critters include a family of owls, a family of opossums, and a family of raccoons. A family of skunks with new babies, who live under the porch of a neighboring home, also visits Red often. It is unusual for Red to be hosting so many animal families with new babies—normally such families would be possessive and territorial with one another. But Red has “made it clear that eating [their] neighbors will not be allowed while [they] are in charge” (26). Red relishes their role as protector and guardian of these tender families.