Moss suggested we should share more experiences, so here's one.
Since I'm usually climbing by myself, I get to name a lot of trees, if a name suggests itself, and they usually end up with masculine names like Lancelot, Old Scratchy, Gramps, and Nameless. Even when Dunlap joins me and names the tree, it's "Little Joe" "Adam" or "Hopsing" (get it? - TV's Bonanza, the Ponderosa Ranch?). But a recent christening is making me reevaluate my naming bias.
I do a series of facilitated climbs for the Girl Scouts. We use a ponderosa in the mountains about halfway between Denver and Colorado Springs.
After cleaning and prepping, I next climbed this tree with the camp director, and she named it "Delilah." I immediately realized that the name fit perfectly with this graceful and lovely tree. Not only do I believe that the tree has taken the name to heart, but she has dressed up for the occasion.
Working by myself and having the first climbs scheduled for 9am (over an hour's drive from where I live), I decided to leave tag lines in the tree (pulled up and out of reach of campers), so that I could easily set my ropes on subsequent dates. But I didn't have enough line with me. So the director brought me a spool of hot pink parachute cord.
Now when leaving in the evening and arriving on another morning, I am greeted with the sight of this fine tree adorned with 12 hot pink streamers (6 doubled lines). Between climbs, pink Delilah is visible to all the girls using the camp trails.
And perhaps I'm anthropomorphizing, but I really think Delilah likes it. Now that she's all clean and deadwooded, she's out on the town in her hot pink duds. At least until next Tuesday, when our final climbs of the season return Delilah to her plain, but still lovely, finery.