As we sat, having our morning coffee. We remarked at the wind blowing the big, old, 150 year old oak. At any moment you expect to see a limb fall off, with the twisting and swaying of each branch. The wind is howling around every corner of the house today. We were warned of high winds.
So far all is well, we have not lost power but that could happen.
The pool is in need of draining down, We have had a steady rain for the last few days, not hard just steady nice drizzle. Enough to move the pool up at least 4 inches.
So as we watch the tree, we talk.
What if that old tree could tell us what it has seen in its lifetime. All the animals that took shelter under its spreading branches.
How many little boys climbed to the top and was "King of the World?"
How many squirrell families and ant colonys have lived within its bark and center.
We can see the hole dug by a squirrel at the base and know they live there. IN the center of the tree trunk, we see a big hole. In this hole we see an old burn. The tree survived a huge fire.
Last year we lost a branch. It was a beautiful branch. It had grown so heavy the ends reached the ground then began reaching up again. Reaching up for the sun.
When the branch fell, I saw it lying in the back yard, Suddenly I became very sad. Part of its history was now lost, part of its beauty.
However when we moved here we found several of those brances that had fallen and had been left to rot and replenish the earth from which it came.
This particular branch would serve another purpose. We gave it to Our friend, Ron Colosio. He came over day after day and cut and sawed that limb up. That limb was more like another tree. Ron was able to haul away four (4) truck loads of oak for his fireplace.
So if they could talk, would they talk of pain of the wind and storms, or the glory of the wonder they have witnessed?
If they could talk, Would we ever go for a peaceful walk in the forest? I dont think so. It would be so noisy with them arguing over who was the oldest and who had seen the most.
Just thinking.
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