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I'm not one to be afraid of storms, in fact, I rather enjoy the drama of an ominous sky, and claps of thunder that reverberate off the limestone Scioto River basin behind the house. But this storm scared me. It roared through and was gone in the space of just a few minutes, pulling up large trees by the roots along a mile stretch of our road.
I have a certain spiritual connection to trees, and hate to see one, especially this old, come down. I love to place my hands on a tree and feel the peace and strength it exudes. This wise one was about 100 years old, since I counted nearly 96 rings, which means it was here even before the house was built in 1927. I'm sure it will be proud to keep Willow Manor toasty-warm for several winters to come.
As the poet said, 'Only God can make a tree',
probably because it's so hard to figure out
how to get the bark on.