Tree logic

The pecan in front of my house is slow. I think it might be, you know, one of the thicker trunks in the forest. The tree in the back yard tells me that it's time to blossom, flower, leaf out, spread its tree-semen with abandon. I say delicately to the front tree, "Look, I don't want to criticize, but, you know, the tree in the back..."

The front tree is having none of this; and, frankly, it resents being judged. "Look, just stop right there monkey," it says to me "I don't need to hear your thoughts on this. I was planted here 100 years ago. I didn't ask to be put here. I'm doing the best I can. I'm from Illinois, I know about snow. You ever had snow on your new leaves? No, you haven't because you're an ape. Trust me, you don't want to get caught out in that. I'm not going to get caught out in that."

"But in the 100 years you've been here has it ever snowed in April?" I queried cautiously.

"I got my ways. I've never been caught out in the snow."

"But it doesn't snow here in spring."

"And I've never been caught out in it."

"But if you don't get a move on, you're going to lose your chance to pollinate the other trees. I mean, don't you care about your legacy?"

"I'm not interested in having children that are so dumb as to leaf out too early and get caught in the snow. I don't want to breed with those premature blossomers, like your friend back there -- that's reckless risk taking. Rather not have children than have stupid children," the tree sulked.

"But it doesn't snow here in April." I repeated.

"And I've never been caught out in it."