Personality Counts for a Lot Around Here

We have a sprawling, enormous, overgrown mess of a tree right next to our driveway which perfectly straddles the property line between us and our neighbor.  I think this meant that no one was ever sure who owned the tree, so nothing was ever done about pruning it and making it grow properly (not that I know anything about that-- I don't recall anyone ever pruning trees in Seattle).  We can't go a week in the summer without some tree business stopping by and offering a free estimate.  They never say out-right if they think we ought to cut it down or attempt to prune it into shape, but my guess would be the former.  My father-in-law informed us that it's a "swamp maple" (I have no idea what that means or why it's not good enough to be a regular maple tree). 
 

Lopsided loveliness, dwarfing our van right there...  And that picture was taken today, so you can see that I'm not exaggerating about it staying green!

But regardless of how ridiculous this tree might look, I sort of love it.  Because it just has so much personality.  It's got several huge limbs sprouting out in various directions and low enough that it's only a matter of time before the kids figure out they can climb it.  It's got a very obvious squirrel nest in the middle of it, and a hornet's nest so high up that it hasn't actually bothered us yet, although in matching with the rest of the tree, it's pretty ugly: 

There's the hive, at least 50 feet up

 And best of all, every autumn it stays green later than any other tree, until, in a fit of procrastination-catch-up, it turns yellow and drops all of its leaves all over our car in a matter of days, which is of course how it came to be called the Whomping Willow, despite the fact that it is a (swamp) maple.  It's kind of awful if you're the one raking the leaves.  But since that's Craig's job (and since I let him buy himself the awesomest leaf blower ever), it's mostly just hilarious.

I love my funny Whomping Willow.