As the silver beast is currently hors de combat, I am practically unable to leave home at the moment, so not much journeying is taking place.
However, my much loved elm tree has just made it's final journey. A friend came and took it away last week.
A sad day.
But at least it has gone to a good home. It will be used to make something beautiful.
A fitting end.
A better end than firewood!
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| The elm tree goes on its final journey. A sad day. |
Thanks to the silver beast's recent truculence, the last interesting journey I made was to buy two blossom trees to replace the elm.
Interesting journeys (ones that take us further afield than our local town) lead us past the wonderful chieftain as often as not.
He watches high above the road, and I love seeing him.
Perhaps because when I do, it means we are off, off and away!
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| The Chieftain. Sculpture by Maurice Harron. Seeing him means we are on a journey |
While I was reading this, I was thinking that at some point that tree's life would have come to an end, even without Dutch Elm Disease. And you noticed it and loved it. How many trees die unremarked? And now you are making sure it will be remembered and valued by others for years to come. Not a bad legacy. One anyone could be proud of. Life is a journey.
ReplyDeleteLovely chieftain. I should like to see him for myself.
How right you are, Isobel.
DeleteThank you for that thought. Now I am glad it died on my watch - loved and missed, rather than unremarked - if it had to die at all.
Life is, indeed, a journey. Not one that we always feel like making.
Aw so sorry to see your tree go. when our huge palo verde was taken out by a windstorm a number of years ago, i was really sad! Seeing the branches and trunk lined up on the truck in your post made me think of the book The giving Tree....
ReplyDeleteI don't know that book. I must look it up. Thanks, Kate
DeleteIsobel said all for me!
ReplyDeleteShe said it very well, as always. Thanks Pix
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