There Was A Tree .... There.

A lot of people in the northeastern United States – well, those who aren’t flooded out of their houses – are experiencing the above phenomenon after the most recent nor’easter. There was a tree there. In some cases, it’s the plural. And. Well…..They’re just not there anymore.

It’s a very strange feeling when you lose a grown tree. It’s like a visible piece of your world has disappeared by magic. Irrationally, it just doesn’t seem to matter that you know exactly how it came down. Or that its down fall was due to a soaked ground and a massive wind. Not having the tree where it’s always been, is very strange. The missing tree really leaves a gap in your world. You can feel rather exposed. I know I do.

In my case, the tree was a major psychological buffer between my apartment and the harsh condominium lights from the building on the other side of my neighbor’s lawn. Especially in the summer with its full foliage, I could pretend the other condominium wasn’t there so much. Since being unemployed, my tree had become a steady companion while I did my morning writing. I’d watch the sunrise light up its branches. I'd watch the birds coming and going, and squirrels chasing each other all over it. When the mulberrys were ripe, it was fun to watch the squirrels fighting each other and all manner of birds for branch space, barely hanging on.

Now, I wonder if “they” can see me in my apartment at night, or early in the morning. (This is assuming, of course, that "they" care!) I find myself making sure the blind is down more often now in my living room. It’s not that I’m doing anything remotely interesting. However, I do spend a lot of time in there. Talk about self-conscious. Oy. And, too, any time, I glance through the window, I’m startled by the tree’s absence. The view seems much harsher.

Needless to say, one of my priorities, aside from getting a livelihood, is to have a new tree put in! I’ve even offered to pay for part of one, so that something more than a tiny sapling will be purchased. Silly? Perhaps. Though I think of it more as an investment in my perceived privacy and feeling of security – not to mention, my early morning entertainment!