Farewell, Pretty Tree
The snow, while beautiful, brought with it a friend: Devastation. Live Oak trees, Magnolias and other pretty, leafy-in-winter trees all over Dallas had trouble holding themselves up under the weight of the snow last week. Many survived the storm without incident but others were maimed, some destroyed. The above shot is my neighbor’s house, about ten or fifteen houses down. That huge limb is actually sitting on top of his roof (I can only imagine THAT noise in the night). Another limb was in the road and had to be cleared by the City, said the neighbor across the street who was trimming whatever limbs he could reach in his own trees. This is one serious split:
Our Magnolia out front lost a hefty branch, but that was the extent of our damage, thankfully. The tree trimming business is making a killing right now, and a lot of the streets in our neighborhood have piles of debris stacked like this, awaiting Bulk Trash Pick-up Day that isn’t for another two weeks or more:
Piper and I walked by again today (regretfully without the camera) and there was a roofing truck parked by the side of the road with its driver hammering on the roof. Despite my hopes that it could be salvaged, that big ole beautiful tree has been totally cut down. I don’t fit the definition of tree hugger. At all. They would run me out of the State of California if I ever threatened residency. But I deeply appreciate God’s creation when I stop for long enough to soak it in. And old trees hold a certain mystery to me. They seem wise and strong, full of memories and the secrets of those around them. And it sounds silly because I don’t even know those neighbors and I didn’t have a personal relationship with that tree–no memories of me or my children swinging from it’s limbs or climbing it in the summer–but it made me choke back a few tears to see it chopped up and tossed by the roadside today.
A gaping wound is now all that’s left where a beautiful tree once stood tall and pretty, offering its free gift of shade, food and shelter to those who would accept it. That’s almost as sad as Pip carelessly tossing Lovey Bear over the side of the crib during both naps today.
Love y’all and hope to...
Wow, that was a big tree! Our street lost a lot of trees, but thankfully we did not. Our next door neighbors lost one of their 2 really big trees and the lady across the street lost her HUGE 50 year old tree at midnight when it snowed. We were still up and heard it happen. Apparently she slept through the loud noise though. Blake had to go over and wake her up! I’m no tree hugger either, but I feel like you do about the trees.