The Flowering Urine Tree

Robin was called into work early this morning. We went to bed really early last night (around 10:45) so I can't fall back asleep. That's okay because I got plenty of sleep. Enjoying some morning coffee, I was staring out our living room window at the beautiful trees surrounding our apartment. There's one across the street which is huge and whose colors are turning bright orange and yellow. Three others, whose branches lift straight towards the sky (which makes them skinny, hence, the "Ally McBeal trees" which I just made up right now but I'm going to stick with it because they're skinny like Ally McBeal) and they are notoriously slow at changing colors, but they're slowly turning. Directly behind the Ally McBeals sits a Flowering Urine Tree...

Named by my father, we used to have a Flowering Urine Tree at our old house. It was some variety of maple and beginning in March, the Flowering Urine Tree would begin its Flowering phase and grow tiny buds which would blossom into beautiful cream colored flowers which had little to no smell whatsoever. Once the flowers began to wilt and fall off (around June and July), you could rest assured the Urine production would begin immediately. For June and July it would sit, producing its sweet urine which collected in tiny specks all over the leaves. Then, usually in August and September, the Flowering Urine Tree would be in "full bladder mode" and begin its tortuous reign.

Our driveway was right next to our front yard, as with most people's driveways. We could also park in front of our yard, which we frequently did. The Flowering Urine Tree would wait for weeks gathering its sticky goo until a slight breeze (or none when the sap would get too heavy and fall anyway) would rain the Urine all over our cars. Depending on which side of the car was facing our yard, the door would open with a "SCHLUK" if you were the first to open it. Washing the car was totally pointless because the Flowering Urine Tree, just to spite us, would continue its lovely cycle for two months. "So," you ask, "you didn't wash your cars for two months?" Precisely.

Luckily, no one has to park below the Flowering Urine Tree next to our apartment. It sits next to a city parking lot that is only full during the election season. All other times, it is abandoned except when we park there for a few moments if we need to run up to the apartment for something.

Cheers to you, Flowering Urine Tree. I realize it's just part of your cycle as a living thing. You caused us grief for two months out of the year, compared to the 12 months we pillage the environment for our own benefit. Come to think of it, I thank you for Urinating all over us and our vehicles. Now I know how the earth must feel each and every day we're around.

(Oh, I'm sorry, did you actually think you'd get away without me writing something philosophical/political/annoying? You don't know me very well then, do you?)