This is Delantoures and you have reached the Atlas Obscura Podcast line.

If you've called before you may have heard my message asking for love letters to the trees that you adore. I am not home right now, but please leave me your

tree love letter on the podcast line after the beep and we'll get right allergic to you,

and I would like to tell you a joke knock knock who's there

og dog dog who

dog wood tree a good tree.

Hi there Atlas Obscura, my name is Becky and I was listening to your episode about love letters to trees and I thought I would write my own. My apologies

for the gentle quacking in the background. I am on a farm in Northumberland

County Ontario and there are a whole lot of ducks that are sitting next to me as I read this letter to a tree.

To the black locust tree next to the house and outside my window.

You are older than I am.

Have seen more seasons of sky and life in this old farmhouse.

Your spikes are worn now in every spring your branches are graced by lacy flowers that come abus with June's bees and pollinators.

In the hot days, I like to sit beneath your shade and watch the clouds go by.

In fall and winter your branches create a mighty deep sound

that makes me worried you will drop a branch on me or hurt someone.

You have dropped many branches over the years,

but I've never seen one fall. One day when you are cut down or

start to fall, you will re-sprout new shoots and start your growth again. Your trunk will be hollow by then, a refuge for animals and birds.

Like me, you may not belong here. We are both transplants from far away, but look at us flourish in this

beautiful northern place. Your nectar produces the honey, my thoughts produce the

words. I am glad to live life beside you.

...