I already had this in mind when I wrote about trees the other day. One of the trees I really don't hug is the Mimosa. There are actually two things I dislike about the Mimosa and only one thing I like.
Dislike # 1: The feathery leaves look too exotic or something. They're fine for botanical gardens and arboretums but they don't look natural growing alongside our pines, oaks, and hickories. It's not so much a dislike as a prejudice. I plead guilty to being prejudiced for a flimsy reason (but it's a flimsy leaf!). Even in my state of prejudice I acknowledge that it's pretty cool how Mimosa leaves exhibit nyctinastic movement (folding or closing of leaflets in response to heat, shaking, or touching). Try it next time you stroll past one. It's fun.
Dislike # 2: The pink flowers. Now I really have a confession to make. I am (probably for culturally ingrained gender-related reasons) also prejudiced against pink. I think I could like the yellow Mimosa I read about in Wikipedia. Or blue, purple, or red. I could take HOT pink, which I've started liking in some applications. But this is a wimpy, washed-out, faded looking pink. Like front lawn flamingoes (not my front lawn, mind you). I'm sure this shade is very functional, attracting whatever insects pollinate the Mimosa. But I'm not required to like it, and I respectfully decline to do so. By the way, while I'm confessing, I want to mention that Betty Lou figured out my pink prejudice some time ago. When I paper-clipped packets together for 3rd grade teammates I often used up my pinks, not caring if I ever saw them again. I saved the other colors for multiple re-uses. Betty Lou mentioned it then and I couldn't deny it. I'm working through this issue (now I don't have to share my paper clips with anyone).
LIKE # 1: The best thing I can say about the Mimosa is really a pretty strong argument in its favor. When mature, it can be a great climbing tree. It meets all the important criteria:
1) sturdy limbs of medium thickness, easy to hold on to or swing from.
2) limbs well-spaced with several close to the ground.
3) no stickers or spines to stab the climber or jab an eye.
You see, one of my grandmothers, Mama Gaddis, had a great Mimosa in her front yard in Cartersville, GA. Her neighbors had one that was even better. And when we visited, us kids could entertain ourselves in and around those trees for hours. We could play Tarzan, climb, or just find a cozy fork to nestle into. Until something traumatic happened. Mama Gaddis's neighbor had both trees cut. We were all crestfallen when we saw the stumps. But he had his reasons. He was sick of raking up a yard full of those feathery leaves and wimpy pink flowers.
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