The Woodsman's Saw

The afternoon was quiet in my rural neighborhood. The kids were back for their first day of school. The silence was noticeable. Actually I miss the kids presence, their bikes, their shouts; I miss the whole camaraderie of intermittent conversation.

The neighborhood kids, both boys and girls, don’t spend a long time with us older folks, but they do exchange energy by their presence and share their enthusiasm and their expectations about school. In short sentences they will often talk about their hopes and wishes for the coming school year.

There was sadness today for me. Not a major one, but an emotional loss nonetheless.

I have two very tall pines near my house. If a strong ill wind blew through the mid-Hudson valley of New York State, I could have some problems. These tall pines, over a hundred feet, could succumb to high force winds and topple. I would not want my home to be in the way of the wind or the trees.

I had a tree guy come in and top the trees. It truly was sad to see them altered, but not go. The trees still stand, but only half of what they once were. I don’t know if they will survive. I hope so, but I don’t know what future years will offer.

I looked out today at the clear space where long pine branches once reached and cones hung at their tips to eventually drop for posterity; The blue of clear sky was in their stead.

I felt sad, even though I had talked to the tree quite awhile before the topping took place. I wanted it to understand that another force of nature could pull its roots and strength into a path of destruction and I might be in the way of its might. My conscience could not allow for that possibility.

Then mostly gentle forces known as gusts and a few roving zephyrs moved through my region today as part of a high-pressure system.

The once tall pine that used to sway with a shushing sound with passing gusts barely moved. I hope the tree understands.