Wednesday, October 30, 2002
An era has come to an end!
We have lived here in this old house for thirty years. During that time there has been a vacant lot to the west and across the street.
The lot is on the banks of the mile wide Caloosahachee. It is a large lot and a good place to walk the dog and grandchildren, but the most enjoyable aspect was those big trees.
Of course they weren't always so big, but they grew with us and became fixtures, (kinda like us.) They were Austrailian pine trees, an exotic to be sure, with gnarly protrusions, the result of branches broken off by the wind and (sometimes) flung into the river.
When the wind was blowing the trees sang to us. Sometimes sweet and melancholy, other times boistrous less enchanting yet somehow still comforting.
The roots protruding from the trunk had grown big enough to sit on, especially for the grandchildren, and there was a crevice large enough for a four year old to hide in, which David, our grandson always did when we played hide and seek.
The sunsets were spectacular and first golden, then purple or red or seemingly a combination of many colors all at once as it slowly descended, beginning to hide behind the distant treeline as it cast its rays across the water until finally, it was gone.
It is the time of day when the birds are winging their way to a mangrove rookery across the way and they formed silhouetts, silently gliding, except for the quaker parrots who seem to never stop their squawcking.
Now we can no longer sit on the seawall where the boys (when they were boys) would launch off on their Tom Sawyerish adventures to the spoil island half a mile away, and listen, watch, talk small, and enjoy the peace of God.
The trees have been stripped bare, gaunt and silent against the skyline and finally, pushed down and piled into a dumpster.
I'll miss those old trees, that beautiful and peaceful place by the river.
Lately I've been thinking.........maybe it's time for us to move on as well.
Shalom
We have lived here in this old house for thirty years. During that time there has been a vacant lot to the west and across the street.
The lot is on the banks of the mile wide Caloosahachee. It is a large lot and a good place to walk the dog and grandchildren, but the most enjoyable aspect was those big trees.
Of course they weren't always so big, but they grew with us and became fixtures, (kinda like us.) They were Austrailian pine trees, an exotic to be sure, with gnarly protrusions, the result of branches broken off by the wind and (sometimes) flung into the river.
When the wind was blowing the trees sang to us. Sometimes sweet and melancholy, other times boistrous less enchanting yet somehow still comforting.
The roots protruding from the trunk had grown big enough to sit on, especially for the grandchildren, and there was a crevice large enough for a four year old to hide in, which David, our grandson always did when we played hide and seek.
The sunsets were spectacular and first golden, then purple or red or seemingly a combination of many colors all at once as it slowly descended, beginning to hide behind the distant treeline as it cast its rays across the water until finally, it was gone.
It is the time of day when the birds are winging their way to a mangrove rookery across the way and they formed silhouetts, silently gliding, except for the quaker parrots who seem to never stop their squawcking.
Now we can no longer sit on the seawall where the boys (when they were boys) would launch off on their Tom Sawyerish adventures to the spoil island half a mile away, and listen, watch, talk small, and enjoy the peace of God.
The trees have been stripped bare, gaunt and silent against the skyline and finally, pushed down and piled into a dumpster.
I'll miss those old trees, that beautiful and peaceful place by the river.
Lately I've been thinking.........maybe it's time for us to move on as well.
Shalom
