I have a love/hate relationship with fruitless mulberry trees—in fact, I have a love/hate relationship with the individual outside my house. It shades a big south-facing window quite nicely in summer, then drops its leaves so we get some much-needed sun in winter. It gives me a bird’s-eye view of birds, when the local robins and finches and chickadees hang out in it, and it provides a customary perch for Himself, the Anna’s hummingbird that rules our front-porch feeder. When we’re lucky and get the right sequence of weather in fall, the whole street glows a glorious yellow, between the trees and their runway carpet of fallen leaves. It has a friendly, leafy presence, and aesthetically, the row of them on our street is one of the best things about it.
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