death of a tree

One of my dear friends from the past 2 years died in the street last night.

This morning, when I got out of the shower, Marie said, come, look at the tree that fell.

I looked out my bedroom window, and it was the tree just outside my window, that I've admired and befriended the past almost 2 years that I've lived in the Lischey house. I would wake up to its leafy or bare branches each morning, and lie in my bed at night with the street light shining down on it and the stars behind it. The person who lived in the room before me kept the wall above her bed without any human-made artwork, because the tree cast the perfect shadow on the wall, creating a natural piece of art. I took a number of pictures of the tree at different points, because I loved it so.

And this morning, I woke up to find the storm last night had snapped it at the root, at ground level, and the wind knocked it into the street, leaving the complete width of the street blocked. Thank goodness it didn't fall into the house, and thank goodness there were no cars parked in that part of the street. But I will surely miss my dear friend who greeted me every morning and night on the other side of my little red curtain.

I called Metro soon after we discovered it, and they sent out a crew within 15 or 30 minutes and took their chainsaws to it, clearing it from the road. By now, I imagine there is only a stump - a big stump, because it was a big, tall tree.

Eulogizing trees. It's what I do, I suppose. There are a few trees I've had special relationships with - the willow outside Jennifer's and my Galloway dorm window, the Bradford Pear I received for my birthday in Paradise. There are other nice trees - but few that I've had such special relationships with.