last week. If I waited long enough I wouldn’t have to pay to have that tree removed – it’d do the job all by itself. Meanwhile, the tree people have been waiting for the back yard to dry up so they can get their Bobcat (?) in. And this morning they’re busy at it.
|8 years old in 1962|
It’s pretty silly to feel sentimental about a tree, but it’s been my companion for 58 years and in its mature decline I’ve sort of identified with it.
And it’s not going completely—they’re going to leave the bottom trunk, high enough so that from my desk here -- where, for instance, I took the picture of this wild turkey through the window -- I won’t even see what’s missing.
That won’t save the tree, but it’ll be there for the birds to enjoy for a few more years.