I wouldn't call it often, but every now and then, as I'm driving from my home in Havre de Grace to the office in Bel Air, something stirs my interest enough to make me write about it. Tuesday was one of those.

A main part of my route is Route 22 of course and it was on that stretch of road that took me back to nearly 40 years ago.

A little past Prospect Mill Road, the tree cutters were getting in place to trim or cut down trees that have grown into power lines above. I noticed a group of men standing and looking upward in front of one particular house along that stretch. I'm not sure it was purely the tree trimmers or if the homeowner, who probably planted the tree in question many years ago, was also present. That's what really took me back.

It was one of those days in my youth that it wasn't cutting a tree down that bothered me, but even better, the planting of one. Right in the way, of course.


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No not the power lines, but our makeshift ballfield. Wiffle Ball, fastpitch tennis ball, soccer, football. You name it, we figured out how to play it. Yes, play it and all on a patch of grass that was about 65 feet long and 35 feet wide.

Bloomsbury Avenue was one stopping point and our neighbors, the Billings' sidewalk, was the other. The sides were bordered by the house and a rock-laden driveway.

So, I remember my mom telling me and my brother that the owner of the property was going to plant trees throughout the property and our yard, our stadium, was getting one. A 3- to 4-foot pine tree.

There it is, a pine tree planted just about where pitcher's mound is, I mean was. How would we ever play a game in our yard again?

I recall having a few bad thoughts about that tree. There were ways we could make it go away, but nope. Mom said leave it alone and pretty much, we did what mom said. At least when it came to that tree.

So, the tree grew, but thankfully not so fast that we couldn't co-exist. Yes, the tree was a problem, but we played around it. I think our fastpitch tennis ball games got moved out to Todd Field but as it turned out, that was for the better. We still managed to play the rest of games in that yard, though.

Funny thing about that yard and that tree. That yard was unbelievably small, but that tree has become rather large. All the homes are gone and what I knew as driveways and parking lots are grown over with grass and weeds.

That tree, though, it's still there and can be easily seen each and every time I travel through the intersection of Bloomsbury and Seneca avenues. In fact, the tree is probably grown into the nearby power lines. Imagine that.