It seems to me now on this March day from where I sit near the window, warm with cat and book,
that maybe the baby juniper we planted last year could have been tied with twine a few times round or wrapped in burlap to keep it upright.
And compact.
And narrow.
As it is it’s become a small flopping thing, arms landing north and south.
East, west too.
But then would it have thanked me for keeping it in better form—
—or is it, in its untidy freedom,
the envy of the landscaped world…
**
(Junipers have a place in my heart, ever since I met this one…)
Matilda Magtree 
Reading both this post and the other, it amazes me how much robins love junipers! I didn’t know. But maybe Donovan did:
Jennifer Juniper, longs for what she lacks
Do you like her? Yes, I do, sir
Would you love her? Yes, I would, sir
Oh I love that song… (thank you for putting it into my head; will be happily humming for days) (Jennifah… Junipah…)
And yes to robins loving the berries. My mother used to make a sort of gin from them (I come from a long line of moonshiners). I wonder if they give birds a sort of high.
I had no idea robins love junipers. I was beginning to think you must have planted one or two. Or three. Or used the robin equivalent of catnip. Ah… juniper berries.
And yay, for untethered trees!
I’ve got a wild juniper growing in the backyard. No berries. Which equals no point really. Am going to replace it with a berried version. So nice to see those robiny smiles. And hear them hiccup! (: