Friday, October 28, 2011

In Death, a Long Life

A big white oak, veteran of many storms, finally met a windstorm it couldn't match.

All its sprawling limbs came crashing down, leaving the trunk as a monument to its long and acornful life. The monument even bears its name on a label attached fifteen years ago as part of an eagle scout project.
One limb decided to patronize a heavyduty picnic table--those old tables that loom like lost battleships in the overgrown woods at Community Park North, strong enough to last for centuries but so uninviting and misplaced they never get used.
The tree was hollow, and last year rather gruesomely sported a raccoon that had sadly gotten stuck trying to exit through a hole 15 feet up.
Now, in its long life after death, it will begin the slow return to soil, sheltering and feeding life of all sorts in the process.

1 comment:

stephen said...

the thing that i found so surprising was that the two major fallen limbs went opposite directions. i still haven't figured out why the winds would lay the branches symmetrically about the tree.