Tumbleweed Tree

It was a windy day, a few weeks ago, when Victoria chauffeured me down south of Gering, for lunch at a diner on the hill. As we drove, we couldn't help but notice the tumbleweeds blowing across the road and stuck in the fences that line the four-lane highway. So, we started talking about tumbleweeds, and how some enterprising citizens of the high plains have actually collected tumbleweeds to sell on e-bay for big bucks.

It isn't too hard to find tumbleweeds around here. The prolific, green weeds grow in the ditches and along fence lines, every summer.  In the fall, tumbleweeds become tan and brittle, making it easy for a brisk breeze to break their stems. Then, they are off, tumbling across the fields and roads, dropping their seeds as they roll across the plains, until they gather in their final resting places, in protected shelter belts and against buildings and fences. 

No, it wouldn't be hard to find tumbleweeds here. But, if we decided to actually sell them, we wondered how we would package a tumbleweed? I suppose it would necessarily take a rather large cardboard box, and a whole lot of packing peanuts, but it could be done.

Then, we wondered why anyone would ever want to buy a tumbleweed. I know that our part of the country, the "wild west," has been greatly romanticized in other parts of the US, and even in Germany and other European countries. I've heard that those distant tumbleweed buyers often use them to decorate their homes and yards to look like their conceptions of the American West.

Now, there are days, especially in the late winter and early spring, when I would seriously think about paying someone to remove the tumbleweeds that blow against my fence or get stuck in my bushes. So, a few days after our tumbleweed discussion, I wasn't surprised to find a single tumbleweed, marooned in the corner of the porch, next to my front door. 

By the time they make it to my house in town, most tumbleweeds are round, with protruding branches broken off by their constant rolling. But this tumbleweed was perfectly shaped, just like a little tree. After mulling it over for a couple of days, I decided to go for it, and turn that tumbleweed into a Christmas tree. So I dusted it with a little white spray paint, "planted" it in the half-barrel planter, near my front door, and decorated it with red ribbon and some red lights. And there it was, an instant Christmas tree.

One of my daughters suggested that my tumbleweed creation might be a Charlie Brown tree, but I prefer to think of it as minimalist western art. If I advertised on e-bay, I'll bet someone would buy it...