Evans’ Rag
Vol 4 Issue 20
Roadside Bar & Grille in Duck—photo from the Roadside Bar & Grille website
A Tree from Whereabouts.
We have a maple in the backyard leaning into the wind—been leaning and growing since we’ve been here going on twenty years. Best guess is it’s about thirty, thirty-five, and not so large I could date it closer than that.
Some fool tagged its neighbor with a pulley line affixed to the deck—now gone—so they could string out the laundry? That second tree surprised us a couple years ago, giving up the ghost to find a final resting place in the lake. Was the laundry so important? Had they just driven down from New Jersey and didn’t know about clothes dryers?
The second tree whacked our leaning tree good when it expired—beheaded five feet or more and left an ugly stump where the crown had been. This spring the new green shoots it’s putting out makes me cheer. Not the prettiest, but it’s making do.
…
It’s supposed to be bright with sun on a morning in May, but instead it’s been so gray and blustery since before dawn you’d think a storm was about to unload, only it hasn’t. The wind is flinging the leftover rain from yesterday, making the tree limbs dance. This dark mood weather might well continue into tomorrow.
Does the weather interpret what we’re feeling or the reverse of that? It’s surely been a wet spring here. California is already in pre-drought conditions.
Layla goes sullen when the weather goes slantways. She’s still willing to take her walks, but it takes an hour or more for her thick coat to dry out after.
Hope’s like that tree, reaching for another season. Even if sometimes it’s hard to rally the thought.