Sometimes in the middle of summer, we complain about our birch tree because it blocks quite a bit of sun from the plants on the ground. But at this time of year, when the flowers are all gone (except for the toad lilies), and the birch is still lush, we can't complain.
The tree soaks up the light and emits a soft glow that almost completely blocks the apartment buildings behind us. "I'm voting for Obama, are you?" -- the birch tree
"Sorry, I'm voting for Geraldine Ferraro." -- Elektra