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“The scarlet of maples can shake me like a cry of bugles going by.”
– William Carman
I have loved maple trees since I was a little girl living on a street named Maple Lane.
I remember playing in our schoolyard and watching the double-winged fruit of old maples spiral slowly to the ground.
We children called them “helicopters.”
One of the first things I did when I came to our farm in 1982 was plant two maple trees near the house.
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