seasonal show

Every few months or so, Jack says to me, "We need to do something with that tree. It's so big and weak-wooded and it could really cause some damage in a big storm."

And I hmmm. And I think about that tree.

It is, first, a tree. How could I justify removing a tree?

And more than a tree, it is a marker. A clear indication that all is right in nature, in the world.

I look at that tree and I know that life is continuing and even when it is dark and stormy, that tree knows what to do. It hunkers down through the stormy times and emerges in the spring, even when it seems too early for buds. Because that tree knows that if it waits until it is certain there will be no more frosts, it will be too late for buds. It will be time for seedlings and leaves.

And even when it seems too early for those leaves to be changing color and falling off, it knows if it holds on to those leaves until the storms come, the weight of those snow-covered leaves will break off its branches and leave it weaker and open to diseases and insect attacks.

When Jack says we need to do something about that tree, I think to myself how lucky we are to have that tree.

And maybe I should call the insurance company to see if we're covered if we're attacked by tree.