by Maurine Pfuhl
It turns out the tree was a Big Leaf Maple. You see, we never bothered to identify any of the trees that inhabited our yard, only enjoyed the shade and privacy they afforded us. The tree, like us, was healthy when we arrived here, all of its limbs were intact, and it stood with an air of pride as its furthermost branches reached for the sun. Then, as time went by, Anne got worse, and I suppose I did too, we all did really, and off went the tree's once sturdy limbs. It was several years after the maiming when we noticed the large ominous wet black circle at the base of tree, and realized that we were long past the point of saving. The tree's gone now - cut down to its waterlogged base, and we are left learning to embrace a void filled only with blinding sunlight and our own shadows.
Maurine Pfuhl is never gonna give you up, let you down, run around, or desert you. Her blog is here.