There's gold in them thar hills ~ by Kristine Raymond

I think the reason I fell in love with aspens is because I've always adored birch trees.  Now, to be clear, they are two different species.  Birch belongs to the genus Betula whereas the numerous varieties of aspen fall into the genus Populus.  Sounds like a spell taught at Hogwarts, doesn't it?  But their similarities, rather than their differences, are what captivated me when I moved from the New England, where birch trees are plentiful, to the mountains of Arizona, where stands of aspens dot the landscape.

Copyright©Depositphotos  Aspen trees

Copyright©Depositphotos  Birch trees

As a kid, my family vacationed in New Hampshire, on eight acres up in the mountains.  Aside from a well-hidden path just wide enough for our station wagon to travel and a small clearing on which to pitch our tents, the rest of the property was covered in trees.  Pines, oaks, maples, and...yes, birch.  I loved peeling the bark from the trunk and rubbing my fingers across the velvety texture on the underside.  And, lest you think I ran around harming innocent trees, one of the characteristics of paper birch - the variety that grew on our land - is bark that peels off in sheets. 

Copyright©Depositphotos  Paper birch bark

In autumn, the leaves turn golden yellow and flutter in the wind, an enchanting sight to a kid with a huge imagination.

When I decided to make my move out west, it was a photo in Country magazine that clinched my choice of destination.  An aspen grove on Mt. Elden; thousands of golden leaves rippling in the afternoon sunlight.  I may have been leaving everything I knew behind, but those gorgeous trees, in their resemblance to birch, helped ease the transition.

Did you know that aspens grow in clonal colonies, spreading by means of root suckers born of a single seedling?  Each individual tree can live upwards of 150 years but the root system underground is thousands of years old.  One such colony in Utah, given the nickname of "Pando", is estimated to be 80,000 years old (from Wikipedia.)  Did you know that forest fires, as devastating as they are, encourage the growth of new aspen trees?  Nature is remarkable in her ways of healing herself.

On an unseasonably cold day in June of 1993, my husband and I stood amidst a grove of aspens and exchanged our wedding vows, their verdant leaves fluttering non-stop in the blustery breeze; the sound akin to thousands of tiny hands applauding our commitment to one another.  It was the same grove where my beloved brought me on our second date two years earlier, introducing me to the beauty of aspens up close as, until that day, I'd only viewed them from a distance.  Imagine my delight at discovering trunks as snowy-white as the trees from my youth and pendulous flowering catkins like those of the birches back home.  They were different, yet so similar; closing my eyes I was transported back to New Hampshire, camping in the woods with my family.

I'd be hard-pressed to choose a favorite between the two - the sturdy birch, its paper-like bark sparking hours of imaginative play in a young child (that'd be me), or the resplendent aspen, setting the mountains aglow each autumn in shimmering gold. 

Copyright©Depositphotos  Aspens in autumn

Come to think of it, aspens did provide quite a picturesque backdrop for a newly-married couple (also me.)  Sorry, birch; as much as I love you, aspen trees will forever have my heart!