A pine tree snapped in two in our front yard, and our neighbor's tree fell over into our back yard, crushing the fence. But we are fine and feel twice-blessed, as something similar happened (and at a similar tree-to-fence-to-yard angle) some years ago at a house in Chicago! That time, the tree narrowly missed a second-floor back bedroom where my husband was working. This time, my husband had just come in from cleaning the gutters (realizing while he was on the roof that this was a really bad storm) and was looking out the patio doors into the back yard when the tree fell into it. I was in the church basement, where we had gathered when the alert came through via cellphone (and did you know that a cellphone can have "Assisted Light" on it, a very bright flashlight?! Well, now I do!). We cheerfully continued our fellowship and then went home to our various messes and power outages, glad to be alive.
A poem of mine went up at Heron Tree, and I found it there this morning. And I found this heron landing on a tree at birding information. The poem is about a tree. A sweetgum tree! We have one in the back yard, and the neighbor's tree missed it as well as the house. Today we put out more leaves for the leaf-sucking machines, creating room on the median for branches. Tomorrow, perhaps, we begin chopping up the pine tree. Today, I made a wreath with some of its branches.
And, if you didn't see these already, take a look at William Lemke's photographs of trees at Escape Into Life.
5 comments:
A very fine poem at Heron Tree.
And now I understand why you are thinking of more than the trees captured by Bill Lemke's eye.
So pleased all came through the storms uninjured.
When we dead awaken, indeed! Glad to hear you made it through the storm.
Thanks, Bethany! Turns out there is an Ibsen connection to Rodin and Claudel, so that phrase worked itself into the poem!
Really like the poem Kathleen.
Thanks, Mark.
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