The Imposter

Fifteen years ago, my mother planted oak seedlings along the driveway.

Some of them thrived.

Others struggled.

It's a tough life, living by the driveway. Sometimes deer nibbled the branches. Others fell victim to overspray of pesticides and herbicides in the fields. A bull mangled another.

We replaced the ones that died with seedlings that we found in gardens and along the edge of the woods.

One was not oak. For years, it developed root systems and struggled to survive, and finally thrived.

This year, it revealed its true identity.

I'm okay with a mulberry among oaks.