Here she is, on the far left. She was one of only two big trees the builder saved when he tore down the oldest cottage in our area to build a mini-mansion.
He stripped her body of all her lower limbs, I suppose to enhance the house value by giving the new owners more of a view.
Here’s what I could see on Full Moon nights….through her branches.
This was my sunrise view each morning. She towered into those pink skies.
Then one morning, I heard an awful sound, terrifyingly familiar….There was no warning. Just that terrible roar at 7 AM, on the morning of her murder.
I ran across our adjoining yards to say Good-bye. I had known her for over 40 years. My son had grown up in her shade. They wouldn’t let me near her.
It took hours to kill her. I couldn’t watch very much of it but I would return to my window and take a picture now and then…and tell her she was not alone.
The final Cut………
Hauling off her parts, in a tree Hearse….
Her decimated stump….
Still oozing her life’s blood……….
Her perfume still powerful, all the way across the two yards and into my house….
Her ancient skin…cast aside, in broken chunks……….
But her breath-taking beauty…undeniable!
All that’s left of her. We grieved for months.
Now, at sunrise, I can stilllook over at her Sister, spared the tragic fate imposed by the hungry builder.
And the new owners have made the yard around her grave, a lovely spot for all to enjoy.