Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918Trees
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
so, my 24-year old friend who i've known since she was 3 months old came into town. during her college years each summer we would play scrabble til the wee hours of many mornings. so last night i said, come on over and we'll play one last scrabble series before you leave town again. we played until 2:30. only got 2 games finished (tells you how long we ponder over words in an attempt to get that 85 point word). she finally said i'm just going to sleep on your sofa and go home tomorrow. i went to bed at 2:38am. quick deep sleep.
about an hour and a half later i heard a sound i'd never heard before. weird wind. no train sound. no howling or whistling. just weird. before i could get my eyes fully open i heard a unusual and dramatic sound. i didn't jump up. i lay very still and in my semi-conscious foggy sleep-state i said "i think a car just landed on our roof." i don't know why i said it and then i thought i had dreamed it. i stayed under the covers.
when we looked outside it was apparent that the 50 ft fifty-year old oak tree had been twisted up out of the ground - much like the cork we had unscrewed from the wine bottle at dinner earlier in the evening. a double-trunked tree. one trunk fell into the street and the other larger trunk fell across the gable of our roof and onto the neighbor's roof. we were lucky. our damage was minimal, unlike many in plano and allen.
as the tree service began the cleanup i asked the site manager about the way the tree fell. i said surely since it was situated so close to the house that if it had fallen straight toward the bedroom window it would have just rested against the house. he laughed at me and said, "honey, not a 15,000 lb tree. it would have landed on your bed!" gulp.
8 comments:
Jan, I am so sorry but very thankful that the "car" didn't fall on your bed...with you and Bruce in it. I know how much you love all things of nature. Reminds me of several years ago when the one across the sidewalk "went". That was storm-related too, wasn't it? Bless your hearts. When it rains, it pours....so to speak.
K.
fern: you know our other BIG OAK tree fell in an ice storm 9 years ago. at that time i said when the other one goes we're moving. well, maybe that's a sign? dripping springs? ha! i LOVE trees and mourn the loss but as of late have a new perspective on all things earthly!!! and i have lots of wood for jenny to use to turn bowls. i did call channel 8 to report damage and dang if they didn't put my "voice" on tv to conversate with the anchors at 4am and the entire city of richardson must have been watching channel 8 cause everyone is calling and laughing at me! i think i'll be a weatherspotter. or a storm chasing missionary. :)
Lines Written in Early Spring, William Wordsworth
I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
Jan, start packing your bags. A sign's a sign. You can't be arguing with a sign. I know. I know. It'll take more than a fallen tree to uproot you guys....honest to gosh I typed that before I realized what I was saying.
And, is my DIL a keeper or what? Beautiful, funny AND cerebral. Jonathan's a lucky man. Thank goodness that he came to his senses and married her before someone else did. :)
does this mean the tile job is off?
i don't know, fern. (man, when the heck did i start calling you fern?). maybe the tree IS a sign. i've got grumblings in my stomach this morning. could be the strong coffee BUT i think i'm having mom grumblings - like i'm NEEDING to let go more and
realize that my kids lives aren't MY life anymore - we raise them
to leave and become part of something/someone else's lives and DAMN if they don't go ahead and do it! and there you are - left with a cavity the size of the hole in my front yard. i woke up this morning missing the shade and the ivy and the branches brushing against my bedroom window screen.
how many "trees" do i have to lose before i get it? yes, your dil is a keeper - enjoy having her in your life/church/house/backyard.
brooke, you have renewed my interest in literature (i am
such a nerd. i was going to say "you have piqued my interest" but i looked "piqued' up on dictionary.com. used it. then went back and changed it to "renewed" because i didn't think the word quite fit. DANG!!! this is JUST A FREAKIN' BLOG COMMENT!!) i remembered kilmer's "trees" and now you offer the familiar words of wordsworth. i've been saving your post with the lengthy piece to read on the way to austin today. i think half-price books is calling me to hunt down a book of literature!
Yikes! Call Hud about that. I don't know much about stone but I do know he got a pretty good deal on it. Will we see you this weekend???
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