This is my favourite tree. It stands near a little bend along the Red River at Fort Dufferin. This is where my Mennonite forefathers first stepped off the steamship after immigrating to Canada from Russia in the late 1800's. They say this tree is the first thing they saw when they stepped onto dry land. (Do the math. If it was this big back then...well, anyway, it's way over 150 years old.) Who knows? My great-great grandparents may have gazed up at its splendid branches and marvelled at how they shamelessly reached for the sky. They must have been burdened with tired, hungry children and trunks filled with supplies to get them through the long winter to come. But I like to think that just looking at this amazing tree gave them strength.