Another GirlieOnTheEdge challenge. Prompt word: Pine

Who can think of pines without the pine trees lining Jim Croce’s winding road in his song “I’ve Got a Name?”

I first heard it on an eight-track album recorded by Helen Reddy.

Or how about Pine Sol, that cleaner we poured in buckets and washtubs to scrub our floors or scour our sinks and toilets?

I think of the row of pines my dad and grandfather planted at the edge of a little game preserve at the foot of the dam where the overflow from the spillway could keep them wet.

I can see my dad, lying in the pasture grass chewing on a stem, hands behind his head, listening to the breeze shushing through the trees.

My dad and granddad both died when I was just a kid, but those trees have become giants, edging gnarled Russian olives, broken down floribunda roses, and a variety of volunteer native trees and shrubs.