Few weeks ago, one Saturday afternoon, we are driving home and we can’t turn on our street. There is a police car in the corner closing the road. My heart jumps for a bit. But it is the tree in our neighbors front yard. It’s falling. It has been falling for few years now. But now, it was really falling. Do you see how it’s leaning? Luckily there’s no damage yet.
Leaning towards the street, it was moving. Falling. Slowly. It had been falling actually, for few days, and none of us had notice. Except the kids. Siena and Lucas told us later, that they thought it was fun that now they had a little hill on the sidewalk to skate over. The roots were pulling the cement up.
We parked around the block, and walked home. Then we watched the action from far away.
It was a winter day for sure. But it got dark all of sudden. It started to pour. As if the Earth was showing her sadness.
A black walnut.
It was sad and hard to see it go down. That tree has been there for many decades. We’ve seen it for two. It’s been there. For us, it has always been there. It was the base and the edge of many games my kids played. It was a landmark for our family since the kids were young. “Don’t go further than our friends’ tree.” “Make sure you can see the tree.” “Turn around at the tree”
And just how quickly the City crew came, they were cleaning and they were done, in just over an hour. Dozens and dozens of years in history marked in this tree, down in just minutes. But now safer for everyone around. And with a new stomp, new memories and new games I’m sure will come of it.
We even got few bits of it. For some more playing of our own. New gnome houses, new island, new houses, who knows what will come of it. New stories begin.