Pining again

Cutting the pine
 
It is as if a ribcage has lost a lung.
The body and the world note an absence.
The cavity empty of song;
the sudden change in breathing.
The birds fly by, their muscle memory
shifting up, or down, didn’t I land here
yesterday? The squirrel in his endless
accounting has lodged a complaint
sitting in front of the house loudly
scolding. Beside the stump, where sawdust
and bark are scattered, the partner tree stands
awkwardly. Like a long-wed companion
who doesn’t know what to do,
with an un-held hand.

Google Earth image June 2013

 

The tree on the right is the one that was cut, I thought I took a picture, but I can't find it. Even in this picture from 2013 you can see the vines all the way up. And the giant print of the stump and vine. Vines like elephant toenails. 

 

Don't pine for me

Cardinal, Sparrow, Blue Jay, Carolina Wren, Carolina Chickadee, Dark Eyed Junco, House Finch, Tufted Titmouse, Downy Woodpecker, Red-bellied Woodpecker, Northern Mockingbird, Robin and Dove. 

They arrive before dawn, in the cold, and work on the seeds I spill as I take the birdfeeders in at night. And then they gather in greater number as I put the feeders back out as the sun rises. One suet feeder and one of seed on each side of the house. Then I sprinkle sunflower seed and peanuts. Back inside I like to listen for the Blue Jays; the peanuts go fast.

Today the tree guys came to take down the dead pine. I was sorry to see it go but worried how it might fall, our roof, or our neighbor's, too great a target. This crew was here at the beginning of the pandemic to trim another tree in the backyard. I like their work I like that they are from this area and that they come in and chop and clean and joke among themselves as they work. The tree that was lost was one of the two pines in the front yard that had ivy to the top. It took a lot of years for this parasite to take over these trees, some of the old vines were four inches in diameter. We’ve successfully stopped the ivy. Jerry did the bulk of the cutting around the trunk and I patrolled the ground all year and have seen no new growth. But we lost one of the trees. Both trees were filled with vines, now dead, and the birds loved the trees. After the tree guys left birds zipped around in the empty space, and we went out and brushed sawdust off what is left of the trunk. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try to count rings or take paper and crayon and do a rubbing. As we were coming home from our walk, I noted how the tree still standing looked lonely, kind of bare on one side where it had had a partner for so many years. I’m trying to think what kind of flowers to plant next year to help a tree in mourning.

Be safe, be kind, hug a tree.