How about that, chief. The old poplar in plain sight trick, and I fell for it. Would you believe ... that I suspected it all along? I didn't think so. One might think that with a family friend having owned and operated a campsite called Popular Grove, thereby having allowed me to see poplar trees all around me, listening to poplar music with the wind molesting their leaves, that I would know a poplar tree when I see one; and that I could recall those distant memories of being haunted by popular tree shadows in the moonlight while trying to sleep, or that I could recall the taste of popular bark ... hold on, hold on, this is getting serious, sounding like poplar obsession, a poplar cult (its members all walk funny because they stick a poplar sapling up their ... well, cult members don't talk about that ... there is no cult!
Excuse me, (cough), good of you to investigate and bring this query to a satisfactory resolution.
