Tree Bites Verses 1-3 (c) 2000 by Elizabeth Southwood, Verse 4 (c) 2000 by her son Blake A eucalyptus branch scared the bejesus out of me on a sweaty summer day, when it landed next to where I stood with a rush of wind and its leaves rustling on dark soft earth. This old thick tree has wind-peeled bark -- stiff curling strips that crunch underfoot. Its lofty top sways fragrant twilight-tinted leaves. It hosts myriad hummingbirds, an iridescent swirl of dazzling blues and greens. They whiz around, up and down, tasting tangerine geraniums and worrying my eyes with their needle-sharp beaks and whirring thrums. My son, topping the tree among sighing leaves, twice heard a living creature utter “Unh-UNH-unh” after he drew a saw through branches soft as butter. He scrambled to the ground, a curious look on his face. His legs started itching in three days. The tree’s teeth turned out to be at its base. The tree’s teeth have a name. It is POISON OAK. My son scratched as he shouted, “I’ll be ready for you next time!”