My, How You've Grown!

Everywhere on our farm are reminders of the passing of time. The twelve-foot shrub shown below grew from seed -- an Osage Orange I picked off the ground beneath the parent shrub in the gardens of the Biltmore House almost twenty years ago.
The weeping willow in front of the Blue House was a slender sapling planted by my sister-in-law Fay when she lived there, almost thirty years ago.

The river birches were three unpromising, finger-diameter sticks when I stuck them in the ground in 1976.

But our basement door and the wall above it tell my favorite tale.