Trees are ancient souls that watch over us, purifying the earth with their vascular root system, calling to us in our silent moments to come out and play, take a walk, plant a garden and balance ourselves with the earth. I live on a tree canopied lane and admit in the Spring I worry about the damage tornadoes could do to them. In the winter ice storms create beautiful crystal sculptures of the trees. Like all living things, trees need a hair trim for dead branches. Like our hair, this stimulates new growth. The reward is beautiful summer shade, a home for birds and animals, the rustle of leaves in the breeze. In the Autumn a spectacular display of gold, crimson and orange is put on by the trees, followed by an interesting display of branch bones.