Making Way

November 4, 2009

Tree cutting

Tree surgeon doing his work

An overabundance of rain this fall made the tree dangerous. He had to go. Hovering over our house, the old oak looked far too comfortable bending toward the roof in an almost protective stance. But one strong storm could have sent it smashing through the roof with the ground so soft.

I couldn’t watch the dissection. A short man in spiked boots, wrapped in rope,  hoisted a chainsaw through the English ivy to lop off one arm at a time, tie it and lower it to the ground. Two men guided each branch to the earth and gently laid the arms to rest. A tall trunk, now naked, stood defenseless in the wind. Soon, an empty sky peered down where autumn had been. A small man had again felled a giant. But for me it didn’t feel like a conquest.

Although I know  a tree doesn’t  have a soul, the poet in me grieves a little when something that’s been there far longer than I have has to go to make way for me.

They sent the pieces through a chipper that chewed them into mulch. I’ll spread the “ashes” in my flower beds.

 

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One Response to “Making Way”

  1. paul merrill Says:

    Love your imagery – I almost ached for that tree, too.


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